


when words fall from the sky

by Arzani



Category: One Piece
Genre: Multi, One Shot Collection, Tumblr Prompts, one shots, shorter drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 39,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arzani/pseuds/Arzani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When words fall from the sky, they bring stories with themselves, and it is time for the author to catch those stories and bring them onto paper. With pen and paper the writer creates worlds, which only live for a moment and break apart the next, just to be rebuilt. - This is a one-shot collection of prompts I've got on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. during a hot bath (Shanks/Benn)

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my beta-fairy Lunarshores :) you're the best
> 
> Shanks/Benn

It had taken a long time for Shanks' arm to heal fully. Too long for Benn, if he were being honest. It has seemed that the loss of his captain's arm had been harder for him than for Shanks himself. The man had been his cheery self the whole time. He had laughed, drank, and sung as before, and none of the crew worried about it much. Really, Shanks hadn't given anyone of the men a reason to worry even though all of them had been shocked as they had seen what it had taken for Shanks to rescue Luffy.

But when Shanks came back from his surgery he had smiled right afterwards and made sure everyone was okay with the loss. Benn could still hear his words in his ears: "I'm fine. One arm is nothing, that's what we have two, though, so if we lose one we can use the other. No need to worry."

Shanks had said those words with a grin on his face, but Benn had seen the pain in his eyes and he had seen how hard it had been for Shanks to stand on his feet. The man he loved so much had used the last bit of his energy on that day to ensure his crew that he was still capable of being a captain. It had caused Benn to feel two heartbreaking feelings at the same time, both capable of shattering his heart by themselves.

The first had been incredible honor. Benn had felt so honored that he was first mate of such a great man his eyes had gotten teary and his heart had beat more rapidly than before. To see his captain smile in spite of his pain to calm down his crew, showed him again that true strength didn't come from force or cruelty or anything else that hurt any people but from wisdom and love. Hard to believe he had to use such words to describe Shanks, who was as irrational and unsettled as the wind, but they fit. At this one moment they fit perfectly for the one man who held freedom higher than anything. Benn could only recognize again how much he loved him, and he knew he always would.

But on the other hand Benn could feel nothing but unbelievable fear and a lot of mind-tearing regrets. He was Shanks' first mate, and it was his duty to protect his captain. He swore to himself to always save his captain, no matter what even if he had to give his life.

It had been Shanks who had given him a reason to live. He was the one who took the emptiness away from him. He was his first real friend, he was the one who understood him without any words needed, and he made Benn feel alive. Both of them were so different though they were as one when it came down to their inner core. He had never found another person who matched him in such an irritating way. Shanks was Benn's puzzle, the one he tried to figure out every day and still he couldn't. But when they were alone all of this suddenly didn't matter anymore.

So as Benn saw Shanks grinning but with a shaky body and pain dancing in his eyes, he hated himself because he wasn't able to save him from all of this. He should have been there, but he hadn't, and fear crept in, telling him that Shanks could die right in front of him, and Benn would be alone again, with the hard knowledge that there wouldn't be anyone who could reach Shanks in the slightest. It caused Benn more than one sleepless night and a lot of nightmares, in which he woke up, screaming at a dying Shanks and him arriving too late.

Actually one should think that after half of a year all of this should have passed but as Benn saw Shanks' stump again he realized it hadn't.

It was a tradition for the Red-Hair Pirates to visit a small island in the Paradise part of the Grandline that was full of hot springs once each year. The island was famous for their secrecy about their visitors, and pirates where as welcome as marines. Actually the owner of the hot springs managed to get several different areas where you could come and go unseen for a whole crew if they were willing to pay, and Shanks was always willing to pay for his crew. He wasn't in need to count his money.

They had rent three large springs for the whole crew with enough sake to get them drunk for the next two days and – as Shanks had told Benn – one small one only for the two of them. Benn didn't know why but he got flushed in a bright red as Shanks had told him that he wanted him alone for the evening.

Normally Benn was used to Shanks' unexpected moves of showing or telling him that they both were more than just captain and first mate. In the beginning, it was hard for Benn to handle his lover's sudden outburst of affection. Shanks was the type of guy to tell him that he was great in bed in the middle of a serious discussion or to kiss him when the enemy was at the verge on attacking. It had made Benn not only feel uncomfortable most of the time but also made him worry because he wasn't able to show his feelings as Shanks could. But it had gotten better over the time and some serious discussions in which Shanks had made sure that Benn didn't need to show him his affection in public if he didn't want to.

So now Benn was in the hot water, waiting for his captain to join him. Shanks had organized them some sake, chilling it in a big bucket full of ice, and Benn knew how the evening would end, which made his body burn with anticipation. The whole crew has had some drinks beforehand, and he could feel the alcohol running through his veins, making his head light. It was this mix out of a burning desire, alcohol and the warmth of the water, which gave him a sudden rush of adrenalin as when saw his captain coming down the way, naked as he was.

His heart started beating uncontrollably, his mind dizzy as he watched each muscle of Shanks' perfect body, his red hair waving with his walk and his eyes shimmering like the waves in the sun. Then Ben's gaze found the stump of Shanks arm, and a lump formed in his throat. The fear of losing him came back without a way for Benn to avoid it, and it seemed that Shanks could read the fear in his eyes, because there wasn't any joke or words on his lips. As he stepped into the water silent eyes fixed his gaze with Benn's and understood.

It was Benn who needed to hold Shanks on that day to make sure he was able to protect and not lose his captain. It was Benn who took the lead, and Shanks let him as he drew Shanks close to him, caressed his body full of scars, honoring each of them in turn. Each scar was an example of how much Shanks loved and cared for his crew, and if Benn could, he would do everything to make sure he wouldn't get another one.

But soon enough, as Benn stroked through the red hair, down his shoulders and Shanks' chest all of this was forgotten in the haze of the moment, while their lips connected for a secure kiss and their bodies became one with the mutual understanding how much they both needed the other to live.


	2. you don't make the demands here (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meme had been to write a story when Shanks told Benn: "You don't make the demands here!". This is what happend. It's not betaed so if you find any spelling mistakes just tell me :)
> 
> Shanks/Benn

It hadn't been Benn's day, really it hadn't. He had lacked sleep, because of some stupid incident which had happened in the middle of the night. One member of the crew had tried to steal himself into the kitchen to grip some food, which wasn't a crime. But the night shift had mistaken him for an intruder, because they were anchored at the moment. So they had attacked him … more or less. Nothing bad happened but it had woken Benn, who sent the poor one to Doc, for him to fix the bleeding nose and told the night shift to look who they were attacking before doing so.  
After, it had been hard to find sleep again and at six in the morning he just gave up and made himself a coffee, which he was glad he drank black, because he was sure if he had tasted the milk it would have been sour.

So now he really was tired, he had smoked his last cigarette an hour ago and found the box was empty. But because he watched the men stocking up the supplies and food, he hadn't been able to get himself another one of the plenty boxes he had in his room. He was really carving for a smoke now, but his mind told him that this had to wait till he was done with his responsibilities.

It only made him a bit harsh on his orders which got him some irritated glances and some sour faces. He knew it, but the crew had to deal with him at the moment for Shanks was still nowhere to be found and anyway, he was useless when it came to stocking up supplies.  
After a man had put a box at the wrong place, he just couldn't get it anymore. Where the men extra inattentive to drive him crazy or was it just his lack of sleep? Either way it made him yell at the poor man which he regretted the next moment. Damn it, what was wrong with him today?

But there hadn't been time to apologize because a hand gripped him and the next moment his body was pressed against the mast. His shocked eyes looked into the ones of his captain, who minded him angrily.  
"What the hell is wrong with you, Beckman?" he hissed. But the words were only fuel to his dizzy mind, the lack of sleep and his head which hurt intensely. This wouldn't have happened if Shanks had been here!  
"Nothing is wrong, Captain," he spoke blood cold and twitched his lips, "only me doing all the shit you should do."

Shanks eyes grew wide for a second, than he started to wear a mask. His expression was too neutral for the normal funny-headed man. Again, Benn regretted his words the moment he spoke them but somehow he still knew he meant them real. Why the hell had he always have to act like the captain? He was only first mate.  
"So what do you want me to do, my dear first mate?"  
Shanks voice was quiet, without any emotions and it scared the hell out of Benn. This was bad, he knew it and he knew it was his fault. So now he should take what he had started …  
"Be responsible for the ship and the crew and … god, everything that is required of the captain of a crew," he said while his voice got lower and lower. After he had finished the sentence he closed his eyes in regret as he waited for an angry blow. Why had this gone so wrong?

But the blow never came. Benn waited and waited but after what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes again, just to find Shanks looking at him with a sad face. The moment he saw it, his heart shattered into thousand pieces … he had been so wrong. He had been so damn wrong.

"So I will … for my first order, I want you to go to bed and sleep," he said, his eyes still fixed with his and his voice sorry. It made Benn protest instantly.  
"No, I … but …"  
He couldn't even start the sentence properly because Shanks interrupted him, by letting go of him eventually.  
"You don't make the demands here. You want me to be a proper captain, so I am. Go to bed, Benn!"

The order was final and with a stumble Benn turned around and rushed into his cabin, throwing himself onto his bed. He let out a desperate scream into his pillow, so no one could hear it, before the tears came and made him fall asleep after what felt like a painful lifetime. Why was he such an idiot and why was this feeling like he had betrayed the only person he truly and solely loved?


	3. 3 sentences fics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some of the 3 sentence fics I wrote as tumblr prompts :) I hope you enjoy them

**ShanksBenn - mermaids (propmted by Aerle)**

Benn couldn't come around it that he really enjoyed the fishman island for its view and the sensation of being underwater was always something he liked, even though what he didn't like was the inhabitants - especially the female ones - looking at his captain like he was the sweetets candy they could possibly get … or eat … or do other things with, he wanted to be the only one to do with his captain.

Normally Benn wouldn't describe himself as a jealous person, but these mermaids, with their tantalizing glances and soft whispers, of what they would make Shanks feel if he just let them, made him edgy and brought him to wrap an arm around his captain in a possessive manner, showing the whole island what was his and his alone.

His face remained stern, until soft fingers catched his chin, turning his face towards warm eyes and a wide grin which enveloped him immediately, and a teasing voice smirked "You know it's very flattering how stare down each mermaid who just looks at me, but the girls do this on purpose because you are so possessive, Benn. Not that I mind, you could show your affection more often." before warm lips kissed his and stated that Shanks would not want anything other than being Benn's.

* * *

**RayleighShakky - children (prompted by MacLilly)**

Rayleigh couldn't deny that Shanks had made something out of himself and not less if you concerned that he was one of the four Emporers now, even though he would always be the little troublemaker he came to love while he was one of the two cabin boys the Roger pirates had.

Looking at Shakky it seems the woman knew what he was thinking because she had this smile on her face that showed him how much she agreed with him and as if she was able to read his mind she leaned to him, telling him with a knowing voice "You're as proud of him as if you're his dad, aren't you?"

It was hard not to smile, so Ray let this quick smirk go, before he answered her "It was always Roger he thought of a Dad" but Shakky just laughed her wicked laugh and soft fingers trailed over his cheek before they went more south and made his breath go a bit faster than before, her answer ready on her lips: "Is that so? So maybe you want some children on your own …?"

* * *

**RougeRoger - first meeting (prompted by Lunarshores)**

Roger hadn't wanted to come off course this much, especially not in the South Blue, but now he had to do with the mess and he was glad they had found shelter at this island who seemed to be full of hibiscus bushes … they were everywhere.

As he made his way through the forest he swung his sword, to cut down all branches which were in his way, one flower falling after another and he somehow found it sad because they were really pretty but he had to made his way to the village somehow and that was the fastest way.

At least he thought so, but them he heard a scream and a wild "No!" cut through the night, he had no idea where it came from till he found a pretty but really pissed looking Lady in front of him, punching her finger in his chest while she raged "What the hell are you doing to the flowers? Leave them be you dumbass bastard! Do you think you just can destroy nature?" and in an instant the pirate knew he should have taken the small path instead of going straight through the woods.

* * *

**ShanksBenn - heat (prompted by Aerle)**

Benn couldn't stop the sigh which escaped his mouth as he heard Shanks whine about the heat for the fifteenth time now, and he knew it was the fifteenth time because he had counted.

"Benn, it's so hot", he pouted again and it took the last bit of the first mate, so he pushed himself off his sun lounger, threw his captain over his shoulder – he got some irritated "Heys" and fists on his back for that – and the next moment he was over the railing and in the water.

He ignored the "What was that for?" after the now wet man got back to the surface, again and stripped down his cloths to jump into the water as well … maybe he could get Shanks to shower together after the swim.


	4. under the stars (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big "Thank you" to Aerle who betaed the story for me ... even though she was the one to send in the prompt, which was "ShanksBenn: words you said under the stars and in the grass"
> 
> Shanks/Benn

Benn's gaze wandered over the plenty stars which seemed to hang in the night sky. Next to him sat Shanks, telling him all about the figures and forms he saw in the constellations, none of them a real one, even though Benn knew his captain was aware of all the proper star constellations that the sky was showing. He wasn't really paying attention to Shanks' babbling, he rather wondered why they were here after all.

The whole crew had had a day off today, and because they had moored at a small summer island with a white sand strand, going to the beach to have a swim and enjoy the weather had seemed only logical. When it was time for the sun to set, most of the men decided to go back to the Red Force, to have a shower and to get something to eat, and actually Benn had in mind to do the same until his captain showed up next to him and asked if it was okay to slip off. He wanted to show him something, had been his words, but Benn hadn't assumed that showing him something had contained the stars. If it had been romantic in any way, he maybe would have enjoyed it, but Shanks was talking the whole time, so Benn had neither the time to say something by himself, nor had he had the chance to kiss him to change slightly the mood into what Benn considered romantic. To add things up, his whole body felt itchy because of the sand and the salt of the ocean, and he grew tired and hungry.

A low sigh escaped his mouth, and suddenly he recognized that Shanks had become irritatingly quiet. The mood had changed into something heavy, and dark eyes rested on his body, examining him, glowing with concern and bittersweet despair. Benn shivered even though the night was warm, and his hand reached for Shanks', entangling their fingers with each other. At once there was a lump in his throat he couldn't explain.

"What is wrong, captain?" Benn asked him in a soft voice, the tone was a bit off, the words were a bit weary, and there was Shanks, just looking at him. He only watched him with an intense gaze, and Benn's worry grew deeper. "Shanks …?"

Silence filled the space between them, the air as thick as fabric until Shanks made himself loose from Benn's grip to run his hand through his hair. The loss of the warmth against his own hand made Benn shiver again, and it felt as if Shanks had left him.

"Tell me, Benn, what would you do, if I quit being a pirate?" Shanks voice was far away, his thoughts somewhere between here and there, and Benn could only stare at him, eyes wide, irritation written all over his face.

"You want to quit?" he managed to say eventually, and finally, Shanks looked at him for real, shaking his head.

"No … no, I just want to know."

The realization sunk in that this question was why Shanks had wanted to come here. Maybe he had been thinking for days about it, not able to ask him, because it wasn't a question to ask in passing. He could tell from the way Shanks plucked at the grass, to distract his hand from shaking.

"It depends on what you want to do, if you quit," Benn said honestly, a warm smile on his face. He never thought about it, but he was sure he would follow Shanks wherever he wanted to go. It didn't matter if he was his captain or not. He was his life, and nothing would change that.

"How do you mean that?" Shanks asked, and Benn noticed that his hand had stopped ripping off the grass. He had his captain's full attention.

"It means, that I can't know what I would do when I don't know what you'll do," he said and stopped for a short moment to reach for Shanks' hand, pulling him a bit closer. "Shanks, I will always follow you. It doesn't really matter if you're a pirate, my captain, or just yourself. As long as you want me by your side, I will follow you," Benn finished and suddenly chocked on his own words. What if Shanks didn't want him anymore? Was that the reason he brought the subject up? Was it that Shanks appreciated him as his first mate, but wouldn't want him if this era was over?

Benn intended to ask, but the words stuck in his throat, and Shanks was fast by letting his hand trail to his cheeks and holding his chin. His thumb caressed Benn's face, the look in his eyes suddenly warm. "I'll always want you," he murmured, but then the hand was gone, again, and Shanks eyes filled with sorrow. "I just thought … I wondered if you never wanted to live … you know, your own life?"

Shanks' look was so heartbreaking, Benn loved him even more when he saw the fear in the familiar features. His captain's feelings lay bare open in front of him, his heart a book easy to read. Benn knew it must have cost Shanks quite the effort to tell him what was bothering him. He could guess why Shanks wanted to know. Benn was with him since he was eighteen years old; he had dedicated his life to this man and knew that Shanks wondered if Benn didn't want more. But Benn never wanted more. This was all he had hoped to get from his life and Shanks was… He was his beating heart and the center, around which his world spun.

Soft fingers reached for Shanks' wrist, pulled him even closer, and the other man fell against Benn's chest. Irritated eyes darted up and made Benn smile. It was as if he could hear Shanks' heart beat steadily. He enjoyed the warmth for a moment, closing his eyes, before he pushed Shanks a bit back to bent down and kiss him. Soft lips brushed over soft lips, and Benn put all his love and care into it. When they finally ended the kiss, Benn rested his chin on Shanks' red strands and smiled even though Shanks couldn't see it.

"Benn …?" Shanks whispered. It was an unspoken question, filled with confusion, fear and a wild, uncontrollable hope.

Benn fed this small flame by letting his hands trail over Shanks' back and finally, he spoke, "I live my own life. I wouldn't know how to live it differently."

"But Benn..." Shanks interrupted him, and this time, Benn pushed him away to look into his eyes.

His smile grew into a grin. "What? It just happened that living my life consists following you. I see nothing bad in it. Do you?"

Shanks stared at him for a second, but eventually his features turned into a grin as well, and he shook his head. "No, not at all," he laughed before he pushed himself out of Benn's arms and into a stance. His hand reached for Benn's, to help him stand up, too.

Benn took the offer gladly, happy to finally get out of here. It was nice to sit under the stars with the man he loved, but to be honest, his mind conjured up some other things that could be way nicer. With ease, he wrapped his arms around his captain, and his fingers slipped under the shirt of the other man. Meanwhile, he whispered, "Do you know what I would love to do now?" Shanks just shook his head, and Benn continued, "To take a shower, preferably with my captain. To eat something, preferably with my captain, as well and to have decent sleep."

Shanks blinked and grinned, "Preferably with your captain, too?"

It made Benn laugh. "Only with my captain and no one else!"


	5. Carpe diem (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt from Mac-Lilly: Songfic to Carpe Diem from You me at six  
> Thank you to Aerle for betaing!
> 
> Shanks/Benn

They stood back to back, surrounded by attackers who had only one thought in mind: to kill both of them. Well, after so many years, Benn had known this day would finally come in the end. Now it was here, and somehow he wasn't even surprised, let alone afraid. Would they die here? Yes, they definitely would. But he always knew they would go down in a fight, and Shanks and he himself had getting rather old. How long was it, since Shanks had gotten his straw-hat back and Luffy was pirate king? Twenty years? Thirty? Benn had no clue, he never saw use in counting years.

“Say, Benn?” he could hear Shanks' voice, and he smirked when he noticed that there was his usual playful tone, even though this situation screamed for something other than jokes. Well, even though people could take away his captain's life, there was no one who could ever steal his lighthearted nature.

“Mh?” Benn answered without really saying much. There was no need for it, anyway. He could feel Shanks chuckle at his back and would have loved to see his face. He bet the men around them were rather afraid to see him laugh, even though he was in such a dreadful position. Benn's smirk spread into a grin, and now, the men on his side looked wide-eyed at him, too. Gosh, to think a bunch of scared idiots would be the ones to take their lives was kinda ironic.

“You don't think they let us go, if we ask nicely?” Shanks finally asked, and Benn snorted mildly.

He had seen such a question coming. “No, I don't think so, captain, but you can try.”

Shanks laughed again, and Benn savored the feeling. He would miss that laugh.

“Na, I don't wanna … was just wondering.”

A small pause arose, but it was a pleasant one. They had talked all their lives, they knew each other so well, words weren't needed to understand the other man. It was somewhat funny, though, that the men who surrounded them and who had taken out the lives of all the other Redhair-Pirates, waited for them to make a move to attack. Shanks had been a Yonko for nearly half of his life, and his reputation hadn’t worn off. As if they weren't allowed to finally kill them before one of either Benn or Shanks made a move.

“Hey Benn,” Shanks picked up their conversation again, as if they were in the cartography room, discussing something trivial like what to do to rile up some marines. Benn leaned his head back a bit to tell Shanks to go on speaking. “You remember that one night we sat outside on the weather deck and wondered how old we would get?”

“Yeah, I do,” Benn answered and yes, he remembered that night pretty well. It was one of those days he came to treasure. They had watched the sun set behind the horizon, Benn with his cigarillos and Shanks with some sake. They had talked till their voice became hoarse, about everything and nothing. They had laughed, when Shanks imagined what they would look like in fifty years. Benn had snorted and giggled all the time, because he had doubted they would ever become that old. In the end, Shanks hadn't been so wrong, he now realized.

A smile spread across Benn's face when he remembered, thinking about all the words but also about all the feelings he had felt during that night. When their voices finally had faded, because they weren't needed anymore, their bodies had started to speak. They had loved each other, Benn could still feel the kisses and touches on his body. He was really grateful that he had had the chance to spend almost all his life with the man he loved. Even now he could feel this love, and it was bliss to know that their love never had faded or even wavered once.

“Why?” Benn added after a short while, because he knew Shanks hadn't asked the question without a reason.

He got a laugh in response. “Now we know.”

The only thing Benn could do was snorting and rolling his eyes when he heard Shanks' answer, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the men in front of him looking at him with fear. He snorted again.

“Hey captain,” Benn smiled amused “how many of them are we taking with us?”

Shanks tilted his head a small bit, as if he had to think about this question. Maybe he really did. Oh well, Benn was sure he did.

“How many bullets do you still have?” came a counter question.

Benn replied, “None.”

“Ah, well, then maybe the half?” he answered, but it sounded as the question was more if this was worth the bother or not. When Benn regarded the attackers, he couldn't really disagree.

“Sounds fine to me.” The statement was simple and honest. Now, all Benn needed was Shanks approval to go. He didn't think about the death that would follow, if this approval came. He also didn't really care if it would be painful. Their family was dead, and Benn knew neither Shanks nor him would like to live on without them. He had never come to a final resolution what would come after death, but now Benn came to the conclusion that Hell surely wouldn't want Shanks. Too much trouble to keep him for an eternity. Well, whatever would come, he was sure he would follow his captain. Shanks could get cranky really fast if no one was there to satisfy his needs … and well, Benn wanted this attention, as well.

“Any regrets?” Shanks asked, and Benn only smiled.

“None!”

“Well, then, I see you at the other side. Make sure you wait for me,” Shanks laughed devilishly, and Benn smirked.

“Wherever you go, I'll have your back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the headcanon that Benn came to always say “I’ll have your back" when he follows Shanks even though the situation is just ridiculous dangerous and stupid. He would definitely say it as his last words as well.


	6. "I swear it was an accident!" (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt from Aerle and Mac-Lilly to the line "I swear it was an accident". Not betaed, excuse my spelling-mistakes and tell me, if you find any.
> 
> Shanks/Benn

„I swear it was an accident,“ Shanks said, but with such a grin Benn would rather love to smack him instead of believing him. He would have done it for sure, if both of them wouldn’t run from a pack of marines, and he needed his concentration to not stumble.

“You said that before, and I still don’t believe you. You know that stealth actually means to not get noticed, instead of bursting into the commander’s room and insult him,” Benn growled and took Shanks hand to indicate they better speed up a bit.

“I didn’t insult him. I told the truth. It’s not my fault that he looks like a monkey,” he answered in return and Benn could only shake his head, because if he was honest his captain was right. The commander really had looked like a monkey.

“See, you’re grinning. I’m right,” Shanks added and Benn let out a snort. An amused snort, but still a snort.

“Okay you’re right. He looked like a monkey. Satisfied?”

Benn rounded a corner and dragged Shanks with him. The young captain just laughed in response and finally sped up as well, to run next to his first mate. “Yes, satisfied. Kinda at least.”

“Kinda?” Benn asked, taken aback a little. “What more do you want?”

“You!” came the immediate reply and Benn stopped. Due to still holding Shanks’ hand his captain was forced to stop as well.

“And running through a marine base is getting me?” he asked, his face a complete mask of irritation. He partly forgot that there were still pursuers behind them.

Shanks blinked once and wrapped an arm around his back, bumping into his side, before he grabbed for Benn’s neck and pulled him down, to give him a light kiss. “No, but it’s spending time with you. And it’s fun.”

A small sigh escaped Benn’s lip, but they turned into a smile. This man would always amaze him. When he heard pattern getting louder, he gripped Shanks hand again, though and started running. “I would rather call it a workout than fun,” he objected smirking and Shanks laughed his trademark laugh Benn came to love with all his heart.

“It’s still spending time with you,” he stated, while their fingers entangled and Benn didn’t need to ask, why Shanks hadn’t used his conqueror’s haki, yet. It would finish their little run too fast and even though they were running from the marines, at least they were running together.


	7. "Boo" (Perona/Mihawk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perona wants to make Mihawk ... shudder. And Mihawk tells her, she has to change tactics for that.
> 
> Prompt: "Boo" for Perona (and the other person was free for me to choose, so I took Mihawk). Slightly smutty. Requested by Aerle  
> Mihawk/Perona

Perona waited eagerly until Mihawk passed the door she was waiting behind, to spring out of her hiding place and shout an overly excited „Boo“. To her misfortune the older didn’t even blink. He only turned around and looked at her. His expressions didn’t show anything, not even annoyance. They were so neutral Perona flinched and crossed her arms in front of her, angrily.

“Could you please pretend you are scared, at least?” she scolded him, before he could say something, but got a risen eyebrow as an answer. She hissed, pressing her arms a little harder at her chest, to not make any unnecessary movements.

“I will not do anything to please your childish behavior. After four weeks you should figure that scaring me is something you will not be able to accomplish. I can sense your presence, you know that perfectly well,” he answered her in plain voice. He wasn’t angry at her, Perona could figure so much. Maybe he got used to her endless pranks, she started a while after she returned from Sabaody Archipelago to fill the silence that started to overwhelm Kuraigana. She missed the clatter of steel, so she made it her duty to scare Mihawk, at least once. She failed miserably till now.

“What do you want to achieve with it anyway?” Mihawk added, while his gaze wandered over her features. She shuddered under his look. The feeling that he put her soul inside out started to rise. It always felt that way when he looked at her like this.

“Make you shudder,” she stated bluntly. She wanted to know if there was anything that was able to change his expression of neutrality. Sure, she had seen different emotions on him. But they were so subtle. She wondered if he was able to feel more extreme. She would love to see fear, happiness, joy, angst, anything on him. Anything that was a bit more than those minimal hints of what was going on in his mind. To fill the silence was a nice side-effect.

An amused look showed on his face, while he made a step towards her. Perona didn’t move. She wouldn’t show him that his presence made her nervous. Still, her heart started to beat a bit faster, when he leaned down to her, his amused look changing into a sly grin. It was almost devilish.

“If you want to make me shudder, you better change tactics,” he whispered into her ear, and suddenly goosebumps appeared on her skin. She had been able to feel his warm breath at her neck, and images appeared in her mind, she better not thought in broad daylight. It felt like sin, and she didn’t even believe in any higher spirits like a god.

Perona wasn’t sure if the way he touched her side was an accident or not, but it stopped all of her arguments she had probably could throw at him. Instead she stared at his muscular back, unable to move, while the warmth in her stomach started to gather in lower regions. When he was out of sight she cursed, before she rushed to her room. Stupid idiot!

Days passed in which silence had filled the castle again. After the incident Perona had stopped her pranks. Whatever had happened there in the hallway, it had made clear that there was no use in going on the way she did. Instead she started to dream. Dreams that flushed her face with a bright red. Dreams that filled her stomach with a warm feeling. Dreams that made her wake up sweaty. Dreams she not only dreamed while sleeping. But she didn’t dare to make a move towards Mihawk. She may was used to get what she wanted, but she wasn’t sure if this want would do her any good. She also knew Mihawk wasn’t anything she could possess.

The swordsman sat in his armchair, reading the newspaper, as he always did around this time of the day, and Perona sat a bit away, on the couch, reading as well. At least she tried to make it look like she was reading. She couldn’t focus on the words, instead she tried to keep the images that wanted to fill her head in check. It only worked partly. Glancing at the man out of the corner of her eye, again, she suppressed a sigh.

“What is wrong with you, today?” Mihawk suddenly asked, and Perona jerked up, only to see him putting down the newspaper. His look was curious and maybe, but just maybe, a bit concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she managed to say after she maintained to ease her rapid pulse a bit. Her cheeks were slightly pink, because she felt like he had caught her doing something inappropriate, even though she knew he could not know what she had been thinking. He wouldn’t have waited so long to say something if he was able to read her mind.

“You’re staring at the same page of your book for half an hour now. Do not tell me nothing is wrong, when it is obvious that you lie.”

His voice had a cool edge, which made the girl shudder and angry at the same moment. He had no right to accuse her of lying. After all he had started what made her this way.

“I’m just … thinking,” she growled back, and put her book on her lap to cross her arms in front of her chest. Angry was good, it was better than being embarrassed. But his look made it hard to achieve it, because she felt those yellow eyes on her, and with each second they remained on her body, her heart beat a bit faster.

“Thinking, is that so? What are you thinking about?” he asked and again Perona could see that devilish smirk on his face. She gulped hard, before she could form any words. He made her nervous again.

“Thinking about changing tactics,” was her answer and she tried to sound mysterious. She was sure she failed in that attempt. But Mihawk rose an eyebrow at her and grinned.

“So you still think you can manage to make me … shudder?”

Perona huffed at his self-assured statement, and crossed that small distance between them. Standing in front of him, now, she leaned down to him, to look him into the eye.

“Yes, I still assume I’m able to manage,” she replied angrily, but got flustered when the other gripped her wrist and let his mouth wander to her ear again.

“Will you show me what you have in mind?” he whispered, and his voice had that dark, husky tone that managed to make Perona’s legs wobbly. She was unable to reply and got a little laugh from him.

“Seems like I know exactly how to make you shudder,” he smirked and pulled her a little closer. Now she was standing between his legs. “I will teach you,” he added and the next moment he pressed her down on his lap and a moan escaped her mouth, when she felt his arousal at her hip. Well, it seemed he had a thing for teaching. It wasn’t exactly steel now, he used, but somehow she couldn’t deny it was still a sword. She wouldn’t object. She hadn’t had a chance anyway, because he sealed her mouth with his and started to open her dress.


	8. "I think we're stuck here for a while" (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks and Benn get stuck in an elevator ... and appreciate the nice company.  
> "Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…" was the line, Benn and Shanks the couple, requested by Aerle
> 
> Shanks/Benn

„Waaaiiittt,“ Benn could hear from a bit afar and turned to see a man rushing to the elevator that apparently just closed its doors. Before it was too late, he put a hand in between and the man slipped through them, panting from his fast speed. When he looked up again, smiling, two beautiful bright eyes made Benn catch his breath for a second.

“Thank you, sir. I’m already late, it would have been just my luck to miss the elevator and take the stairs,” the man said, while he leaned at the wall, smirking and Benn had a good opportunity to regard him a bit closer. He was a bit shorter than Benn himself, but most people were, since Benn was just huge, and had bright red hair. He looked dashing, and not only because small drips of sweat ran down his temple.

“You’re welcome. I appreciate nice company,” Benn returned that grin and could see how a small red shimmer swept over the other man’s face. It was hard to hold back the chuckle that wanted to escape. It was too bad that Benn would never see the man again, though, because he would exit this elevator in a few minutes and went on with his daily, rather boring routine. Well, at least he had this applicant, he would welcome in … Benn checked his watch … ten minutes. He was pretty late, himself, but since he was the employer and not the applicant he could take the liberty to do so.

“Seems like we both appreciate nice company,” was spoken and drew Benn back to the other who was with him alone. The edges of his mouth went up, and actually Benn wanted to reply something, when  the lights flickered, the next moment a small noise was heard and the elevator just stopped moving. He frowned at the unexpected accident, while his company sighed frustrated. “No way. So much about bad luck …”

Benn should have been annoyed too, but when he regarded the man again, the situation somehow just couldn’t bother him. However, the man seemed devastated.

“Something important where you had to show up in time?” he asked, while he watched the redhead pressing some of the emergency buttons. Nothing happened.

“Yeah, actually I have a job interview in some minutes. But I guess I can quit this job now, since it looks like we’ll be trapped for a while. My name’s Shanks, though. At least the company is nice,” he said and managed to smirk, even though his situation was pretty bad. Then something in Benn just clicked and he blinked, before he forced himself to remain calm and not let anything slip. Shanks was the name his applicant had … this man was the one he was about to see for the open job. Well, actually Makino had been the one who should see him, but Makino was lying in bed with a high fever, so Benn had decided to let his human resources manager sleep and get better while he would welcome the man. Oh well ….

“Nice to meet you. I’m Benn … and who knows, I’m sure if you explain what happened they will still see you for the job interview,” he tried to reassure the man. Well, he couldn’t know that there would be no job interview when Benn was stuck as well. At least if he wouldn’t recognize him as the owner of the company he applied for, but since he hadn’t till now, he possibly wouldn’t.

“I don’t think so,” Shanks laughed, and only a small hint of bitterness was heard. “There are hundreds of other people who would kill for this job, and it never leaves a good impression to be late at the first meeting. Well … I’ll find something else, even though I only heard good stuff about the company. The owner’s still pretty young, and has the same first name as you. But what am I telling you, I guess you work for Red Force, since you’re stuck here with me.”

Benn could figure that Shanks really wanted to have this job. He seemed eager, at least and hey, Benn was the CEO and founder of Red Force. If he wanted to give a person who was late, but nice a job he would. When Shanks smiled at him, again, his heart just skipped a beat for a second. Oh, he definitely would.

“Who knows, maybe you’re lucky,” Benn smirked. Was it mean to not say anything? Perhaps, but he was sure if he would give his identity fully just now, the other would beam and be overly polite and somehow this was the last thing Benn wanted. “and yes, I work for Red Force, well, kinda at least.” He wasn’t so sure if he could truly say he was working for his own company. He owned the damn thing.

“Kinda? So you’re a freelancer?” Shanks asked visibly interested and pressed the emergency button for the last time, before he gave up and shrugged. Turning around he leaned at the wall of the elevator again.

Benn had no idea what to answer. He was no freelancer, that was for sure, so he just twitched his lips and forced a grin. “No, no freelancer. More a … partner.” Oh come on, Benn, a partner? This was the most stupid excuse ever. But Shanks seemed to be pleased because he smiled and nodded.

For a second there was silence, and Benn took the chance to look at the other man, again. He really was handsome, the kind of man Benn enjoyed to look at. The kind of man Benn enjoyed to have wild, uncontrolled sex with … and just got flustered at the though. He didn’t even know the man, not to mention that he decided to recruit him just a second ago. Well, that hadn’t happened for a long time. A very long time …

He looked away, but could see out of the corner of his eye, that Shanks regarded him as Benn had just a moment ago. Somehow he wished that Shanks liked what he saw. Somehow giving this man a job at his company seemed like the best and worst decision at once, ever.

“Well, I normally don’t do this kind of thing,” Shanks stated, and forced Benn to look back at the man. His eyes were drawn to his lips, and he wondered how they would feel when kissed, “but may I ask if you’re single? I definitely don’t want to ask a taken man out,” he smirked and it took a while for the words to settle “and I really want to ask you out.”

Benn just stared at Shanks, before he inhaled a deep breath and grinned, letting his approval of this question show in his expressions. “Oh, I’m not taken. So don’t hesitate to ask me out. I’m pretty sure I’d say yes.”

Now it was Shanks’ turn to look stunned, but not for long before his whole stance lit up and he smirked mischievously. “If that’s the case, would you like to go out for a drink with me?” he asked and Benn wanted to confirm his question, when the lights flickered and the elevator started to move again.

“Oh, well. Good that we could settle this beforehand,” Benn laughed and ran a hand through his hair, smiling happily. “I would love to have a drink with you.”

Just this moment the elevator opened and both Benn and Shanks stepped out, to look at each other irritated and maybe a little flustered. It was the moment Benn realized that Shanks still had no idea who he was, even though he just agreed to go on a date with him.

“Well, I maybe go and see the poor one who is waiting for me, to get my refusal. You’d mind giving me your phone number?” Shanks said causally and Benn could just nod. Maybe he could …

“Mr. Beckman, good to see you, I have these documents you wanted me to arrange, and I just need your signature to finalize them,” one of his managers, who just had rounded the corner, interrupted his thoughts and all Benn wanted to do was smack him, or alternatively have the ground open up and swallow him. He could see Shanks stare at him, shocked and with his mouth open ever so slightly. Shit …

“Sure … just leave them at my office,” he managed to say and closed his eyes in relief when his employee nodded and made his way. He didn’t want to open his lids, again, knowing too well how Shanks looked at him, but had to when he heard the other mumble, “And I wondered why you have the same name.”

“I’m …” Benn started but wasn’t sure what to say. Shanks just snorted.

“I made a fool out of myself,” he stated, simply, but Benn shook his head.

“No you didn’t!” His voice had a little pleading edge in it, but it was firm. Shanks hadn’t made a fool of himself. Benn just wanted him to not treat him any different than any other person, just because he was a well-known businessman.

“I asked you out!”

Shanks didn’t seemed convinced in the slightest. Benn could understand.

“Yes, and I still want to go,” was his answer. It was the truth. He wanted to go out with that man. With each word the other said, Benn wanted it more, because there was no acted politeness, no forced gratitude, just plain honesty.

“What?” came the stunned and pretty blunt response and Benn grinned sheepishly at him. “But I applied for your company. I … I can’t sleep with my boss,” he huffed and flushed in the same bright red as his hair.

“So I simply don’t employ you,” Benn replied quick as a shot.

“Oh sure, I invite you for a drink I can’t even pay, because I don’t have a job.” Shanks crossed his arms in front of him, looking at him angrily.

“I pay then. I have no problem with that,” Benn snorted. This started getting childish.

“I invited you, you’re not paying. I don’t let anyone pay who I asked out.” Shanks seemed determined and Benn became annoyed. And intrigued. He wanted to take him and kiss him senseless, if just to make him shut up. He knew him for not even half an hour, damn.

“So you have to take the job. I wanted to give it to you anyway,” Benn nearly shouted now.

“I am not going out with my boss! No fucking way,” Shanks shouted back just as eagerly. He was so stubborn. Benn couldn’t come around but be impressed.

“Fine. Be my partner then.”

There was sudden silence, and Benn was as stunned as the other man at his words. Had he really said that? Yes, he had, but if he considered it, he still wanted it. He didn’t know that man, He didn’t know Shanks in the slightest, but just by how the other stood up against him, Benn knew this would be the only person he would ever want as his partner … in more than one kind of way. He always wanted to take some risks. He could start now.

Shanks looked at him, searched for his eyes and found them. For a short moment they just looked at each other. There was honesty and somehow a bond Benn wasn’t sure from where it came. It didn’t matter. It was true. Then Shanks nodded, slowly, before he grinned slyly.

“Fine. But I still pay,” he smirked and Benn flinched. Oh gosh …


	9. "I wish I could hate you" (Zoro/Tashigi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I wish I could hate you" requested by anon, with Zoro/Tashigi. This was so lovely and kinda sad a bit.
> 
> Zoro/Tashigi

Her sword slashed millimeters next to his head, but all she hit was the plain air. Nothing more.

Why was she so weak, that she couldn’t fight this man properly? He was a pirate, a damn pirate, and still, she hadn’t been able to hurt him, even though she had the chance. Again.

Tashigi pushed herself off the ground for another attack. This time she wouldn’t care if she hurt him. This time the blast would actually hit. But the moment before it would have been to late to divert her attack, his eyes – or his eye, to be precise – caught her gaze, something inside her shifted and she directed her attack next to his head. Again.

Before she really realized what had happened, a hand caught her wrist and she was shoved against a wall. She closed her eyes, to not look into Zoro’s, but she could feel his angry glare. Why was he not killing her, finally? He had the chance, and he hadn’t acted. He only avoided her attacks. The whole time. Again and again.

“What’s wrong with you, today?”

The voice was so angry, she whimpered and hated the sound the moment it left her mouth. She tried to get off his grip, but she couldn’t. Did she even tried hard enough. No she didn’t. Instead she noticed how warm his body was against hers.

“Nothing is wrong!” she hissed as a reply and knew it wasn’t true. She was a marine, he was a pirate. But something was different. His whole crew was different. She knew since Alabasta. But she was certain now.

“Don’t lie to me!” There was it again. This angry voice, with the sharp edge. As sharp as his sword. A sword that shouldn’t be in the hands of a pirate. But she figured long ago that it was the only place it belonged to, in his hands.

“This is not how you fight,” he added, and Tashigi knew he was right. He had seen her fight, she had seen him fight. She remembered the time he fought this snow girl on Punk Hazard too well. She always thought he wasn’t able to fight women. She was wrong. She just never figured why he couldn’t fight her properly. But she couldn’t fight him properly, too, anymore. Maybe it was vain to hope for a proper fight.

“Don’t tell me how I fight,” she spat, and finally opened her eyes. There was hatred in them, but it wasn’t hatred towards him. It was hatred towards this situation, and that she was so weak and that she wanted to be a good marine, but knew that it wasn’t always righteousness what marines did. Sometimes it were pirates like him, who brought justice. Sometimes all the marines did was fail.

While she glared at him, his expression changed. Was this pain that flickered in his eyes. No, that couldn’t be. But he loosened his grip slightly. She could escape now, if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to and she hated that she didn’t wanted to. He was a damn pirate.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked her, and she gulped hard, because it was the wrong question. It was something she didn’t want to hear. She turned her head to the side. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to look at him. His body was still to warm … and too close. Again.

“I wish I could hate you,” she answered, her voice suddenly stricken and quiet. Almost sad. “But I can’t.”

She wouldn’t say more. She couldn’t say more. She wanted him to go, but wanted him to stay as well. She wanted this whole situation to stop. But it didn’t stop, and he was still there, and she could still feel his gaze on her. This time it wasn’t angry. This time it was sorrowful.

“You should. I’m a pirate and you’re a marine.”

His voice was low, and said so much more than only those words. It said that things would be different if it weren’t for their professions. It said, he was sorry he couldn’t change it. And it said that he felt the same way she did.

“I know!” she answered with an angry, almost hissed tone. Tears started to well, but she wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Not when she knew that tears couldn’t change, wouldn’t change anything.

A hand let go of her wrist and reached for her chin. He made her look at him, and she couldn’t avoid this look. She didn’t want to avoid this look. She was lost in this eye, and she pressed herself a bit more into his body. She could feel his body heat. She could feel his heartbeat. Still, he was too far away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, simply, “I’m sorry. I wished I could make you hate me. I wished you could make me hate you. But we can’t.”

He let go off her, and vanished before Tashigi could do anything against it. All she was able to do was to slide down the wall, suddenly cold, and let the tears she had been holding back, flow. She would never be able to hate him. He would never be able to hate her. They were marine and pirate. They were predestinated to hate each other. But all they could do was love. A love no one would ever agree with.


	10. Stubborness (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks/Benn  
> Benn gets hurt pretty badly and shanks freaks out and tries to make him stop working so hard, but Benn's a stubborn sexy ass. (like...fushcia Village age)  
> from anon
> 
> yeah, I'm not so sure if I hit the criteria quite right, but I tried. I little bit more sad, than expected, I guess. A lot about Benn's past.
> 
> Thank you Aerle for betaing

Nothing would have happened, if Benn had only minded his own health and safety. But the Redhair Pirates weren't ones for being selfish, especially not the captain or his first mate. They regarded their crew as their family and proved it every day anew, while making names for themselves in the New World. Townsfolk whispered about the red-haired man as one potential candidate in the leagues of Whitebeard, Kaidou and Big Mom, but nothing was decided yet and rumors meant nothing, did they?

What was true, though, was that pirates, marines and pirate hunters tried to take their heads. The Redhair Pirates were infamous enough to be hunted down, the bounties of their higher class members high enough to ensure a person a life in wealth if ever captured. But Shanks had promised himself and his crew to never let it happen, and Benn Beckman was helping him with everything he had. They made a great team, and friend as well as foe knew and even feared it.

Benn was wounded during an attack by an enemy pirate group. He had pushed a man of their group out of the way, and his arm was slashed open by a sword. The attack would have caused their crewmember to die, but luckily, the wound on Benn's arm was the worst injury they got due to the attack. The first thing Benn asked when he was back on his feet was, if the man was okay. The second why he hadn't paid more attention. It wasn’t without reason that the crew called their first mate grumpy from time to time. It didn't mean that the crew wasn't worrying about him, especially after their doctor had told Benn to not use his arm for at least three days. The problem was that Benn wasn't really following that advice. Which caused Shanks to explode.

“I told you to stop working, for fuck's sake!” Shanks shouted when he stepped into the navigation room and saw Benn trying to do some paperwork and calculate the course. At least he had been smart enough to not try to draw a map with his injured arm. He would been dissatisfied with himself and in need to draw it again, anyway. But it hadn't stopped the man from working at all. Even though Doc had told him to take some rest and just let the paperwork be for a few days. Shanks had agreed when he had seen the wound. As it seemed the words hadn't helped.

“It's just some...” Benn started, but was interrupted by a loud bang. Shanks had closed the door effectively by slamming it shut, and Benn jerked in his chair. Shanks' eyes told him that if he just said one more word, his captain would strangle him and not just in the matter of speaking..

“It is not just some whatever you wanted to say. Doc told you to rest, and I ordered you to follow his advice. You ignored my order. You risk your health. If I see you again with a pen in hand, I’ll lock you in your room. I mean it, Benn, get out of here! NOW!”

Shanks' voice had become louder and louder. By the end of his speech, Benn had dropped the pen he had been holding and took a deep breath, before he silently pushed back his chair. He made his way around his desk, each step cautious, as if Shanks would attack him any moment, and honestly, your biggest enemy could be your closest friend sometimes. It was true in this case. Normally, Benn would never leave his stuff discarded on the desk, without putting it away, but by now he knew his life was more important.

When Benn left the room silently, Shanks glared at him, and somehow, it was good that the captain remained in the room for another while instead of following his first mate. It wouldn't have gone well if the two of them had clashed. But now Benn had to do something with his free time and honestly, he had no idea what. He strolled to his cabin, looking at the books placed neatly on the shelf. He had read everything, and it reminded him that he had wanted to buy himself some new ones on the previous island. Obviously, he had forgotten.

He could just reread one of the stories, but he hated to reread books. He knew what would happen – he sometimes even knew what would happen the first time he read a story – and it bored him pretty quickly. If he started to study some of his navigation books, and Shanks would catch him, he would strangle him, so that was no option as well. He wasn't able to draw properly with his bandaged arm and hell, he wasn't allowed to work. He never assumed he could be bored, but he was.

With a sigh, he let himself fall onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. He hated to be unable to do anything. He knew that Doc and Shanks were right and he should spare his arm, but he wasn't a person to do nothing at all. He bit his lip when he heard the words of his mother inside his head again.

“ _You're lazy, Benn. You have to study. Don't you dare fail the family.  
__Don't be a failure, Benn Beckman. Don't be a failure!”_

A silent tear rolled across his cheek, and he let out a frustrated growl. It was years ago, he had escaped that household and still it haunted him. He didn't want to fail Shanks, he didn't want to fail the crew, but still he was lying here and doing nothing. Shanks was even angry at him, and the thought alone that the utensils where still spread all over the desk made him itchy. Was it wrong to clean up at least that? He doubted it. He had nothing to do anyway.

With another growl, he stood up again and made his way to the navigation room, but when he entered, he saw a clean desk. There was nothing to put away anymore, and Benn knew Shanks had done the work. No one else would dare touch the charts. Suddenly, misery filled up Benn's heart and he let himself sink against the closed door. He didn't wanted to cry, it was so stupid to cry over something so small, but tears rolled down his face and wet his shirt. Why couldn't he do anything right? Shanks wanted to help him and all he could do was hate the situation.

The empty feeling ate him up, his thoughts swirled back to his childhood in which his parents accused him of just everything he could imagine. He was the reason for all the failures that happened in their lives and to compensate it, they pushed him further and further. He studied up to eighteen hours a day when other kids played outside. He could have skipped around three years of school and went straight to study medicine when he was fifteen, but was refused because he was too young. He was called a failure nearly every day and at a certain point, he believed all of it. Only when he met Shanks, he slowly realized that it wasn't normal what had happened to him. He knew it. His mind knew it, but his heart didn't. Not now, when he felt like the biggest failure all over again. It was even harder to cope with it, because it was Shanks he felt he failed right now. The sole person he never wanted to let down, ever, but he still messed up so hard.

Time flew by, tears hit the ground, but Benn barely recognized any of it. It was when a knock sounded through the door, that the man jerked out of his misery. His vision was blurred by all the tears, and he felt miserable, not to mention that his arm pounded like hell. He knew he didn't want to see anyone, but someone knocked again, more forcefully, and a concerned voice was audible.

“Benn, let me in, please!”

It was Shanks' voice. Normally, Benn would obey, just let his best friend in and seek comfort in the familiar presence, but right now, he didn't wanted to see the man. What should he tell him anyway? That he was crying over a situation any other on this ship would be happy to be in? He had been ordered not to do anything, that was heaven for most of the crew, and he couldn't cope with it. He would not let Shanks see the crybaby he had become, so he just hid his face in his non-injured arm and covered his ears with his hands. It was stupid, it obviously was, but he couldn't change what he was feeling.

“Benn!” Shanks said again, his voice a mixture out of worry and fury. However, Benn chose to ignore it. If he didn't want to open the door, Shanks couldn't help it. He could make up some excuse later, even though Shanks would know Benn was lying. But right now, he didn't really care. Everything was better than facing the man who was able to tell his most hidden secrets by just looking at him. He couldn't stand it, he just couldn't stand it right now.

“Benn Beckman, if you don't move, I'll break down that door,” Shanks shouted and for a short moment, Benn wondered if he really would crash his own ship. He wasn't really sure, he knew Shanks would do a lot of things others would never even consider, and he sounded pretty furious by now. Still, he treasured the Red Force enough not to purposely break anything, and each member who did had to face an angry captain.

“You won't,” Benn managed to say without it sounding like a choke. His voice was wavering, though, and he hated that even his body betrayed him. But he hadn't much time to think about it, when Haki flared up and the handle was pressed down. He could feel Shanks push and the first cracks showed him that the wood was giving in. Hastily, Benn jumped up and turned the key to unlock the door that he had locked earlier, before he had given in to his pain.

There was hardly any time to step back, before the door was crashed open and hit the wall with full force. It was shut with the same amount of fury, and Benn was sure the wood got another few cracks by the bang. He wanted to say something, explain himself to Shanks, but the other man didn't give Benn any time to, instead he grabbed his first mate's shoulders, his fingers digging into his flesh, pulled him around and shoved his back against the door he had just closed. The air was knocked out of his lungs , and Benn tried to catch his breath, unable to handle any of the situation. Shanks was furious, and it showed him how much he had screwed up, again.

Somehow, Benn awaited a blow, maybe a punch to the stomach or his face. He could understand Shanks, who just had wanted to help him to become better, and Benn couldn't appreciate the gesture. He should be thankful, but wasn't, he had tempted his captain's anger before on that day and now he was found in tears. He was truly pitiful.

Instead of being punched, though, Shanks reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him down just a little. His eyes spoke of worry and concern, which caused Benn to feel even more miserable. He tried to gulp down the lump in his throat, but couldn't.

No word left Shanks' lips, and Benn didn't speakeither. They just looked at each other for a moment, before Benn turned his head away, guiltily. His whole stance crumbled, and his knees gave in. Shanks shouldn't see this, he shouldn't have to cope with him like this. His whole past was not something he wanted to give control to. It was the past because it was over. Still, it haunted him, and it hurt so bad to feel like nothing but a failure. All the words he wanted to accept as lies just felt like the only truth to him.

Benn would have hit the ground hard, but Shanks steadied him with his arm and wrapped it around his back. The touch was familiar, and Benn just reacted to it, eased visibly even though his whole body was shaking. He couldn't help it, his captain was all he needed to calm down, his whole self was used to the constant reassurance that nothing could break him with Shanks' help, even though Benn wanted to hide all of this from him, because it felt so wrong and stupid, and his heart ached. How could he fail Shanks, when he tried so desperately not to? It was strange that he wanted to push Shanks away from him, but only pulled him closer instead. His arm still hurt intensely.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered and hid his face in the crook of the other man’s neck. If he couldn't get away from Shanks or make him leave, at least he wouldn't show his tears-streaked face, his red eyes and his swollen lips. “I'm such a failure. I'm so sorry!”

Shanks, though, grabbed his shoulders and pulled himself away to look into Benn's eyes. His expression was soft, but a layer of sadness covered it, as well, and it showed the first mate how much Shanks cared for him.

“You're not even close to a failure, Benn. That's not true,” Shanks told him, and Benn tried to believe it, but each word was covered by a disappointed voice, which belonged to his mother.

“ _You're a failure, Benn. Why can't you do anything right? Is it so hard to be perfect? You have to be better to make this family proud. Be better, Benn! Be better!_

“I'm sorry, I can't… I'm not. I'm just not good enough, I fai...” he repeated himself, but was interrupted by Shanks, who looked more and more angrily with each word Benn said.

“No! Stop listening. Benn! These words in your head are lies. What your parents told you isn't true. Don't believe what they said,” Shanks said eagerly and reached for Benn's chin, who had looked away again. But he was forced to face his captain. “I'm your truth and I assure you, you are all I need. To stop you from working wasn't a punishment, but to help you recover. You don't have to do anything to get my acceptance. All you have to do is to be happy, be yourself and be with me.”

Benn sobbed silently, not able to control himself. The words were a sweet caress to his broken heart, but years and years of believing his parents made it hard to accept it. Even after all those years of being at Shanks' side, it was still hard to believe. He wanted it, he really wanted it to be true, but a last doubt remained.

As if Shanks could see it, could see the spark in Benn that was suppressed by those haunting memories, he pulled his first mate closer and leaned his forehead against Benn's.

“I am your truth. The only truth you're supposed to listen to, and I will always, always know what a wonderful person you are,” Shanks whispered to him, a reassuring smile on his face. He closed the small distance between them and placed a soft kiss on Benn's lips. Even though there was no real response from Benn, because the words had to get through to him, and he still fought his own battle, Shanks didn't care. He just kissed him again and again, placing kisses like butterflies all over his face, on his lips, his forehead, his eyes and his jaw. He didn't let go of Benn and he whispered words, so many words to erase all the lies in his head. Benn just went with it. He tried to focus on those words and kisses, tried to believe in Shanks and in this love, and after a while, the voice of his mother became quieter until it faded for good.

The next time Shanks kissed Benn's lips, the man let his hand wander into the red strands and prevented his captain from pulling back; instead, he deepened the kiss and tried to show his thankfulness. Because he was thankful and he was glad Shanks had dragged him to join him on that faithful day when they met. When they let go, Shanks looked at those still slightly red eyes, waiting for Benn to speak.

“Thank you,” was all Benn managed to say, unable to express in words what he was feeling. He knew those memories would never leave him for good, but as long as he had Shanks, he could beat them and be the victor in this fight. He had won this time, he would win again. Shanks had fought for him.

Shanks just smiled at him, a lazy, but warm smile, with a hint of that glorious smirk he always wore. Silence enveloped them, as they hold each other, forehead pressed to forehead.

“Will you finally rest now?” Shanks asked after a while, smirking for real now, and Benn sighed, but matched that grin of his captain. How could he not, when the man was so close and his presence was so infectious.

“Do I have another option?”

“No!” Shanks stated, and Benn chuckled, the sound foreign in his own ears after all those tears, but it felt good to be able to laugh again. It felt even better to know how his mother would disapprove of it. Even though she would never know.

“Then you have to tell me what to do with all my spare time,” Benn said and made an attempt to stand up again. His whole body was aching, and he flinched at the pain. The position hadn't been comfortable, to be honest. But before he was standing, Shanks reached for his arm and pursed his lips.

“How about seeing Doc?”

Benn hadn't been aware of the constant pain in his arm, but now that Shanks had reminded him of it, he noticed it again. It wasn't too bad, Benn had gotten used to it, but with a little shock, he realized his bandage was soaked red. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I doubt three days of rest will be enough now,” he mumbled, and Shanks looked at him with a sharp expression. It made Benn want to step back.

“I guess so, and you'd better follow Doc's orders, understood?” Shanks spoke firmly, lifting his hand daringly. He knew how Benn could be. He had seen it just now.

“But...” Benn started, just to be interrupted by his captain.

“No but, Beckman. You listen to him! Don't be stubborn.”

“But...”

“No buts! Benn!” Shanks said again, his eyes fierce. It made Benn sigh. He had won the battle against the voice of his mother… he wouldn't win against Shanks' voice of reason. Never… It was good Shanks' voice of reason didn’t show up that often.

“Fine ...”

 


	11. alone, finally (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks/Benn  
> requested by Aerle who wanted ShanksBenn with the keyword "alone, finally"  
> not betad

With a sigh Benn closed the door to his quarters, and let himself fall onto the bed. Alone, finally. He had doubted he would get any rest today, after he had been working non-stop for, he checked the clock on his nightstand, twenty hours now. There had been paperwork to do, then one of the men broke the galley's door, the sea knew how he had managed that, and Benn had to make sure Roo wasn't going nuts, plus he helped with the fixing, and in the end Yasopp wanted his advice for cleaning, checking and even repairing most of the guns on the ship. He was done for today.

It didn't took him long to doze off, and just when he was falling to sleep the door burst open, and Benn groaned, laying his arm over his eyes. His killing intent rose in his chest, and he wondered if Shanks would accept him feeding the man to a sea king.

“Benn, are you sleeping? Why are you sleeping? Get up, we're throwing a party,” a very familiar voice called at him. He should have known that the very man who came into his room without knocking could only be his captain. Well, no, Shanks wouldn't be okay with Benn feeding him to a sea king. Though, Shanks probably would find it pretty funny, while the crew would be mad. He hoped the crew would be mad, at least it was their very own captain.

A yawn left his throat, and he rolled around to look at that damn smirk, wishing he would be able to actually sleep like a normal human being for once. Working all day wouldn't be that hard when his average sleeping hours would contain more than five.

“I'm not sleeping,” he said lowly, not even having the energy to sound annoyed. A sarcastic comment came through, after all. “At least not anymore.”

He followed Shanks with his eyes, when the man closed the door behind him, softer than Benn had assumed he would, and closed the small distance between the wall and his bed. When he sat down on the mattress, Benn moved to make space for the other.

Soft fingers ran through his silvery hair, and Benn leaned into the touch, enjoying the feeling. A pleased but tired sigh showed how much he yearned for a good nights rest, instead of a party. He hadn't really slept well the last few days, less than he normally did, which was less enough.

“Telling you that you should work less isn't working, is it?”

Shanks' voice sounded both concerned and resigned. It made Benn turn, so he was lying on his back. His own hand reached for the other man's wrist, softly pulling it out of his hair and entangling their fingers together.

“No it isn't. But it would be nice if you didn't drag me into that party,” he answered honestly. He didn't mind the noise, he was tired enough to sleep either way.

A little pout told him how much Shanks liked the idea, and Benn groaned silently. He knew Shanks was able to manage him to join the party. A little pout here, a soft kiss there, and Benn would be up and out of his room, before he realized what was going on. Normally he wouldn't mind, but today he wondered if he would survive the night without just dropping unconsciousness, or sleeping off at a table, after one drink.

“But a party without you is boring,” Shanks whined, as Benn had expected. He wondered if it was worth the discussion, though felt too tired to argue. Instead he pushed himself up. If Shanks wanted a party, he would get his party. “What are you doing?”

The moment he had moved, to get out of bed, Shanks' expressions had shifted from pouty to serious. It took Benn a little aback, the words as unexpected as the little push, which pressed him back into the mattress.

“You want me to join, so I'm joining,” Benn explained, and tried to stand up again, but was stopped by his captain. A genuine, thankful look showed on Shanks' face as he leaned down, to both hinder him from getting out of bed, and kiss him softly.

“Yes, I would love you to join, but I also want you to rest properly. I share a bed with you, Benn, I know when you come in, and when you stand up each day,” Shanks mumbled against his lover's lips, his arm resting next to Benn's head to prop him up. “Change yourself into your nightwear and get some rest. I'm joining in a few hours.”

It was with Shanks' words that Benn realized he still wore his normal cloths. He hadn't realized he had dropped onto the bed, with just getting rid of his shoes, his rifle leaning at the wall, always in reach, in case it was needed. He sighed and smiled wearily.

“You don't have to come to bed early just because of me.” Benn's hand reached upwards, to stroke a strand out of his captain's face. “I know you're eager for this party.”

With a little grin, Shanks rested his forehead against Benn's one, then he gave him a soft headbutt, and pushed himself back up. “You are more important than any party, Beckman. Go sleep.”

Somehow the words made Benn chuckle. He pushed himself into a sitting position, and smirked lousily at the other man. It would be nice to have Shanks next to him for a good night's rest, again, after all these days of neglected sleep. Benn knew himself good enough to know he would wake up, when Shanks came in, but as tired as he was, he would also just wrap his arms around his captain's back then, and continue sleeping. He always slept more peaceful with Shanks in his arms.

“Aye, capt'n,” he said, and with a little wink Shanks was out of the room, with the promise of returning sooner than later, to join Benn. Knowing that much, Benn stripped off his cloths, cuddling into the blanket, as the ever growing noises rocked him into sleep, glad he was alone, but also not at all.

 


	12. nightfall (Dadan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested Dadan with nightfall. I hope the dear anon liked what I made out of the request.  
> not betaed

It was way past nightfall, and they still weren't back. Even though Dadan wasn't one to worry easily, or at least not show it, she couldn't help herself, strolling around in front of her little shack, waiting for those three idiots to come back. They would come back, they had to, and not just because Garp would certainly kill her, put her in jail, and take away all her booze and cigarettes for sure, if they weren't. In that exact order, mind you.

She caught her breath for a second when she heard a rustling in the woods, but when a rabbit showed up, just to hobble away again, frightened, she sighed loudly, and fished for her box of smokes. It was almost empty. It had been full in the morning.

For over three hours now, she considered searching for them, and still didn't, because she had no idea where to look. Now that it was dark it wouldn't make much sense anyway. She would just get lost, or get attacked by a wild animal, and then the whole search would have been for naught. It didn't make the wait easier. The boys were just kids. How could she be sure they weren't attacked by animals?

Pacing up and down, she jerked, when a sound startled her. She turned and glared, but it was just Dogra, looking all sleepy and still concerned.

“What are you doing out here?” she hissed at him, angry and annoyed, because he had managed to make her jump in the first place, and because showing anger was better than showing worry. These damn brats.

Dogra seemed pretty much unaffected of her shouting. Probably because he knew how she could be, or because he was too sleepy. It didn't really matter as he spoke. “You should trust them boys.”

“As if I'm worried,” Dadan told him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Well, it only showed how much she indeed worried, getting all furious over nothing. “I'm just smoking.”

To prove her point she lit one of the cigarettes eventually , taking a deep drag, to calm her nerves and to stop herself from saying something again nasty. She didn't have to overreact, or worry. She was just smoking, in the middle of the night. Pacing up and down. It was normal. Sure, it was.

“Sure, you are,” he said, speaking out loudly what she was just thinking and grinning in a way Dadan could only consider as sly. She wanted to smack him, but no, why should she, when she was just smoking. Instead she exhaled the smoke, pressing it out into the night air between her teeth.

Silence surrounded them for a while, and just when Dogra yawned and intended to go back in to sleep, Dadan spoke again, concern seeping through. “They are fine, aren't they?”

The man turned back to her again, smiling, and shrugging. Only a little glance in his eyes told the woman he was worried as well. But he hid it better than her. The trait of a man, she assumed. Or it was the weakness of a mother to always be concerned for their kids, without anything to do to prevent it.

“Sure they are. Probably sleeping somewhere in a tree, after they lost track of time. Tomorrow they will be back, and you will hate them for being loud, brats and not listening.”

Dadan only hmpfed at those words, deciding to not say anything at all. She hoped he was right, but the only way to be sure, was to have them rascals back. They better hurried.

It seemed Dogra got it that she wouldn't say anything anymore, so he waved at her, wished her a good night and made his way back into the shack. Dadan watched him walk, until he was no more to be seen. Then she started to pace again, walking up and down, as she waited for Ace, Luffy and Sabo to return again. As much as she wanted to make herself believe she didn't care, she knew she had lost that battle long ago. She probably wasn't the best mother to them, but she was the only one they got. So she worried, when no one else had the decency to do so.

Nightfall had been the start of her wait, the night her trail, and now, as the sun started to slowly rise in the east, and three different voices started to announce their return, the dawning was her redemption. Finally...

 


	13. bet (Robin & Nami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunarshores requested a fic in which Robin and Nami made a bet. It was quite funny to write it.  
> Not betaed.

There weren't only dangerous islands on the Grandline, this much Nami had to admit to herself. Well, she hoped the island wasn't dangerous, but it did look fine to her. So far they had sailed around for an hour or so, admiring the wonderful nature, and the crystal-like water of the dozen rivers that seemed to run through the whole place. There had been no need to get off the Sunny, yet. They probably could cross the whole island, without doing so.

Most of the crew had went on with their daily business again, after they had all hung over the railing, looking down, to watch the beautiful fish. They were pretty, shimmering in all colors, looking like living rainbows. Sanji had promised not to kill and cook them, after even the ladies of the ship had told him they were too lovely to do so. Instead he was in the kitchen now, preparing their lunch, totally fish-free, but definitely tasty nonetheless. It probably was meat. Luffy had requested meat, after he was denied his fish.

Zoro had went back to snoring, leaning against the railing. Franky was doing silly, childish, but somehow still nice-to-look-at games with Chopper and Usopp, while Brook accompanied them with some encouraging music on his violin. Luffy was still hanging over the railing watching the fish, grinning happily and commenting on what they were doing, which meant, telling everybody how funny they looked. Like diamonds, even though Nami had told him they would probably not sell quite as good as real ones. She had forbade him to mourn over not eating them.

“He will fall down and drown, when he leans down more,” Robin said, after they had been quiet for a while. She had joined Nami on the sun lounger, as the weather was fantastic, and there would be no change of it soon, because as the navigator she was, Nami knew so much.

At the words she looked up a little, turning, and rolling her eyes. “Yes, definitely. Poor Sanji has to jump after him again,” Nami answered her friend, reaching for the cocktail next to her. Somehow she had gotten used to the morbid statements of Robin, and her saying someone would drown was nothing according to her standards.

“You think so, Miss Navigator? I would have said it will be Zoro, who will jump after him.”

Robin's words where light and musing, as if she would love to see Luffy almost drowning and Zoro preventing it. Again, what her tone was implying and what she really meant where two totally different things.

“Zoro's sleeping. He won't even realize anything happened until it's done,” Nami said, pointing to the sleeping swordsman, before taking another sip of her cocktail, and putting it back on the small table.

“You wanna make a bet?”

“2000 belly with ten percent interest per week,” Nami agreed, without blinking an eye. She hold out her hand for Robin to take it. When money was involved she was never slow to wrap it up.

“If the captain doesn't fall, the bet is off,” Robin made sure, and Nami just nodded and took her hand, to shake it.

“Deal,” they both agreed on it, and then waited. Well, they hadn't had to wait for long, as shortly after their agreement, Luffy yelled out loud, laughing.

“The fish just turned from red to gold. Look at it, guys, look,” he exclaimed excitedly. The next moment a loud splash told everyone on the crew that Luffy had took another unintended bath. Just right after the first one, another splash was audible, carried to the women's ears with a curse.

“One time I will just fucking let him drown!”

Robin smirked as she watched the scene, then she turned to Nami, while the kitchen door burst open and Sanji came out of it, ready to dive into the water, but only realizing he was a little too late to do so. With a frown, as he looked down from his higher spot, he turned on his heels, crashed the door shut and vanished again.

“You owe me 2000 belly, Miss Navigator.”

“Ah, darn it,” Nami frowned, sitting up, with the intention to get the money. She would definitely not get into debt with someone. While she marched to the door that led into the ship, she shouted, “Sanji you owe me 2000 belly, damn it, you lazy-ass.”

“Everything for you, Nami-chwan,” was the instant reply, that carried hearts through the air.

Oh, well, some things would never change.

 


	14. silent fury (Perona & Mihawk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akogarezephyr requested Perona with the keyword silent fury. This was so much fun and the idea came like immediately. Hope you like it.  
> Not betaed (as most of them here)

It was three months since Perona had returned to Kuraigana Island and Mihawk's castle. Three months in which she wondered why she had actually done so. When she had entered the castle, looking for the owner, Mihawk had only raised an eyebrow at her. She had not gotten any “Hello”, “How are you” or “You're back”. No word at all, that he hadn't seen her for nearly two months and was glad she was back, no indication he cared she was living with him, again.

In the beginning she had shrugged it off. If he didn't throw her out, she wouldn't go. The two years had made her believe the castle was her home, now, and to be honest, she knew no other place to go. But the more the silence filled up the castle, the more it wore her down. Mihawk wasn't the most talkative person, and without Zoro it was even more quiet than it had been in those two years.

Sure, they spoke with each other, but it was only necessities. It was about whose turn it was to cook, about when they needed to do groceries, and similar non-personal stuff. It felt empty, and the usual boisterous nature of Perona didn't show up. Oh, she wanted to. She wanted to tell him to finally say something about her returning. She wanted to make herself clear how absolutely boring she found him, because all he did was drinking wine and reading the newspaper. She wanted to scream at him, be the annoying little brat she had been during those two years, but she couldn't. There was this fear he would kick her out then, because she had no idea if he wanted her to stay or not.

Ignoring the fear and the ignorance of Mihawk's feelings towards her had only worked partially. As time passed it began to gnaw on her, but she didn't admit it. Instead she converted it into fury. Silent, bubbling fury, volcano-like, bubbling in her stomach. It wasn't that Mihawk couldn't speak with her. He had done so time and time again, during those two years. How often had he told her she should be this and that, be more quiet, be a lady, be less annoying and more like the princess she claimed to be. Why was he so silent, now that she was what he had always wanted from her?

What made it worse where those glances. Whenever he thought she wouldn't look, his eyes regarded her every move. His expressions were so reproachful, as if she was doing something wrong. She hated it, and it only added to that fury in her. He had no right to look at her like that. She was behaving, wasn't she? Being all silent and nice. After all he was the one who owned her an answer, or at least a proper welcome. Just something!

It was then, on any other day, when she had took a shower and wanted to slip into one of her favorite dresses, that she noticed it had a hole. She cursed between pressed teeth, the fury in her bubbling and stirring, while she rushed to her room, to get herself something else to wear. When she opened the wardrobe, the sight didn't really add to calm her nerves. Those clothes were old. All of them were from the time of the two years and suddenly she didn't want to wear them. She wanted to go shopping, get herself something new, something fresh … just something to distract her from her current state of mind.

She slipped into the first few pieces she could grab, nothing of it what she would normally wear together, and rushed to the main hall, where she deemed Mihawk to be. The man had to go shopping with her, no matter what. If he didn't say anything, keeping his silence, he at least had to make up with buying her cute clothes.

“Can we go shopping,” she said, when she opened the door, but all Mihawk did was turning a page of his newspaper, not even looking up. She had calmed herself, but seeing his unresponsive behavior caused her fury to stir up again. Could he at least look at her, when she spoke with him?

“Sure you can go,” the man simply said, quiet as always. It made Perona want to explode, and suddenly she didn't care anymore. He didn't want her here, that was for sure. He had no intention to spend time with her, having a newspaper that was more interesting than her. So when he told her she could go, she would do so.

Rushing up to her room, to start packing, didn't take long. Tears pricked in her eyes, but she wiped them away, angrily and pulled open her wardrobe doors with a loud bang. She would get away from here, and go somewhere where people wanted her to be around. She was someone better than enduring this silent torture, as if it was okay.

“Stupid Mihawk,” she hissed, as she threw the clothes on her bed. One piece after another. Even her favorite dresses and skirts. It didn't matter. “Stupid idiot swordsman.” She dragged the shirts out of her drawer, opening one and another one, her hands gripping the fabric, as she hold back those damn tears. “Never says a thing.” It didn't work, and as those salty pearls rolled over her cheeks she blindly reached for the last few trousers she had. “Never cares at all.”

“That's not true.”

The voice made her stop in her tracks, and she turned on her heels, facing the man. He stood in her door frame, his eyes darting over the mess, judging. She didn't need his disapproval or his pity. She didn't need his false sympathy. He had made himself clear, not talking with her. He only bore her staying with him, but it was not something he wished for his own. At least she was determined it was like that.

“Liar,” she shouted, as her hands reached for the small backpack that was on top of her wardrobe. The whole clothes would never fit in, but she wasn't thinking as rational as it was needed, to realize it. “You didn't even welcome me. You didn't care I came back. Why should you care at all?”

“I knew you would come back,” Mihawk said calmly, not responding to her shouting. It was even like he was smiling. Was he making fun of her? How could he know she came back, when she hadn't had a clue about it herself. It could have been that she wanted to move on. She certainly wanted it now.

“Liar again.” In her fury she made her ghosts rush towards him, attacking him with them, though she usually knew it didn't work on him. With his skill of haki he easily could make them disappear. But the more he pushed those ghosts aside, the more she made them attack Mihawk. It just made her so angry that he didn't even let her move, when she finally came to the conclusion it was for the best. “Liar, liar, liar!”

“Stop that, Perona. It doesn't work,” he told her, rather unimpressed at her attempts to attack him. Why was he looking so happy? The way she treated him, he must be furious for her being bratty again, but all he did was pushing the ghosts out of his way, as he came closer to her. What was it with his smile? She should stop smiling.

“I won't. Get away. I will leave,” she hissed, as those traitorous tears streaked down her cheeks. Her whole body was shivering, now. She hated it so much that he had managed to make her cry. He, Mihawk, out of all people. It was so uncute to cry. She didn't want to show him how much it hurt her, how he had treated her. “Will you just leave?”

By now she was sobbing, but it seemed Mihawk didn't care. Instead he pulled her at his chest, his expression had changed visibly at her last, whispered, almost desperate words. It was surprising, but it was even more surprising that she didn't struggle, but just hid her face in his shirt. Her hands clenched the white fabric. She didn't want to go, she wanted him to accept her, to want her stay with him. There was nowhere else to go. There was nowhere else she wanted to go. He was all family that was left.

“Since you've been back you had been irritatingly quiet. I wondered how long I had to go on with this farce of ignorance before you yell at me, and become normal again. I didn't intend to make you cry. I am sorry,” Mihawk told her softly, and then pushed her a little off his body, to place her on her bed. By now her tears had stopped and she looked at him with wide, swollen eyes. Some last soft sobs made it through, nonetheless.

“But you never liked me being loud,” she hiccuped, wiping away the last few tears. It only got her an raised eyebrow, and a marginal grin.

“Yes, but I like you less being quiet,” he stated, and then let his eyes dart over the mess again. “I think we really have to go shopping now.”

Perona huffed at the words, and stood up with her hands at her hips. She was a little shaky, still, but life came back to her. It was his fault, after all, making her all mad, and playing with her feelings. How dare he faked ignorance, when he actually cared for her, stupid swordsman.

“Yes we do. Those clothes are old anyway. My favorite dress has a hole. A hole!” She didn't gave the pile of fabric on her bed another glance, but just walked past Mihawk, gripping his hand to pull him along. Without a word he let her, and started walking, though he freed his hand. There was a limit to anything, and he wasn't Perona's teddy to be dragged around. Well, at least not all the time.

“What did you even do, that my dresses have holes? I leave them here, and you ruined them,” she muttered, her ghosts crossing their arms, nodding in disapproval. Mihawk just stared at them, and within a second they floated behind Perona's back, hiding and sticking out their tongues.

“Old castles often have mots,” he said, simply, and then shook his head. “How can you even believe for a second I would have ever doubted you'd not coming back, when you left behind your favorite clothes? Nothing is more obvious.”

The simple smile on his face showed Perona, she should have known all along. She hadn't been nice and quiet during those two years. She hadn't been the perfect lady. But she had been herself, and it seemed all Mihawk wanted was herself. Simple as that. Perona. The ghost princess. Pink-haired, bratty, Perona. Mihawk's beloved and annoying protegee.

With a wide grin she turned around to face him, and Mihawk raised an eyebrow at her look.

“What?”

“You wanna show me how to handle a sword …?”

 


	15. breeze (Tashigi & Smoker)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> akogarezephyr requested Tashigi with the word breeze. It's not really long but I like it.  
> not betaed

She had cried, hid herself in her room and tried to forget the shame. Pirates … pirates had done what she hadn't been able to do. The Straw-Hats had defeated Crocodile, not her or Smoker. Because they had been stronger than the Marines. They were criminals, violating the world, and making it a more dangerous place, and still it was the deed of pirates that the kingdom of Alabasta wasn't just that anymore - a dangerous place. Now it was safe, safer than before, and free from the fear of a civil war. Because of damn pirates.

A breeze tousled up her hair, while she gripped her sword a little tighter. She had finally come out of her room, facing whatever was ahead of her. By now it was evening, the sun had made place for the darkness. Smoker had already told her about the deception the headquarter was planning. Medals, climbing up a rank. She didn't want it. Not because it wasn't her wish to get further, but because she didn't earn it. It wasn't her who had defeated anybody. The only thing she had been able to do was letting pirates do the work Marines should do. She should do. But she had failed.

A last tear rolled down her cheek, but the wind took it, and carried it away. She should finally stop crying, and get stronger. She had made a fool out of herself, in front of Captain Hina and Captain Smoker. Well, he wasn't Captain anymore, was he?

Her look wandered over the waves, barely visible in the darkness of the evening. She could smell the salt of the ocean, the wind whispered things to her ear. No, when she got those medals and the promotion – she knew there was no way around it, no matter how long Captain Smoker cursed about it – she would fight for it. She had told Smoker she would convert this energy into training. The time for tears was over. The time for battle began. Getting better was her goal now. Because she wanted to stick to her words, and she never wanted to come into a situation in which others had to act for her.

One day they would catch the Straw-Hats, and then she would gladly take a promotion or a medal, but moreover she would be able to look into the mirror and be proud of herself. But until that day it was a long way, a steep mountain to climb. She would climb. She had said so, so she would.

“Finally out again,” a voice sounded behind her, and she turned around, looking at a face covered by smoke. There was no sign in Smoker's expressions that told her he judged her for crying, for showing weakness, for hiding herself from the world for a while. At least not anymore. What had been done was done. No one could change the past, only make the future

She nodded at him, her face grim. “It will never happen again, Sir,” she said firmly, her voice an image of her determination. Another breeze blew through her hair, and with her hand she kept the strands at bay. She would fight, she would not give up. It wouldn't ever happen again, because she wouldn't let it, and she knew Smoker expected nothing less.

 


	16. sea change (Roger/Rouge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacLilly requested Roger/Rouge with the word "sea change"  
> not betaed

Dying hadn't been as painful or hard as Rouge had thought it would be. It actually felt nice. No more sorrow, no more exhaustion. Just this wonderful feeling of floating. Well, it lasted for a moment, then even that was gone, and she had to face a weird occurrence, that reminded her of a blurred person. It apparently was a guardian, and it told her she could get into a wonderful place, where everything would be light and pleasant. She wanted to know if Roger was there as well. He wasn't, so she declined.

Time has passed since that day, even though time was irrelevant where she was. A second could last for an eternity, and an eternity could slip in a second. She hadn't really got a hang on it, but she didn't really try, too. At the moment she was sitting on a cloud, and it wasn't a cloud that carried for example Skypia. No, it was just a normal fluffy cloud, from where she had a magnificent look down on the world she once had been living in. An arm was slung around her shoulders, as she leaned against Roger's strong, broad chest.

Her eyes darted over the different seas, until they went back to that one special Blue her son was currently living in. East Blue, Fuushia village, the mountains. Ace.

“He ran off into the forest again. One day he will kill himself,” she mumbled, annoyed, to cover her concern. In the beginning Rouge had feared for her son, but by now, after so many times of him escaping dangerous animals just like that, she was sure he had the luck of his father. Also this Sabo boy was with him. They would be okay. At least she hoped so.

“He's fine,” a dark voice mumbled absentmindedly, and she followed Roger's gaze, to see what distracted him from their son. A small smile escaped her lips when she realized what, or better, who it was.

“Shanks is causing ruckus again?” she asked him, squeezing her eyes a little, to get a better view on what was happening just a few miles away from her previous spot of attention. Then she screamed a little at the shot. But it hadn't been Shanks who was falling to the ground, dead. It was a bandit, shot by one of the redhead's crewmates.

A soft set of laughter erupted next to Rouge, and she boxed Roger into the side. “Don't laugh at me. That was dangerous.”

“I trained him better than to loose against such a filthy group of scum,” Roger said proudly, and just earned another hit into his side. With a pout he rubbed the spot, looking away from down there, to his wife. “What was that for?”

“Uncivil language,” she said firmly, and just like a beaten puppy Roger made a face and mumbled a sorry. Pirate king or not, angering Rouge wasn't a good idea.

When the woman was satisfied her husband understood, her eyes darted back to the events in East Blue. They widened in shock, and a hand clasped her mouth. “No,” she whispered. Again, time had tricked them, and the moment she had been occupied lecturing Roger, way too much had happened down with the living.

“Shanks!” Roger screamed, but no matter how loud he would be, no matter how much he wanted to do anything, he couldn't. The regret of leaving the boy all on his own, seeing how hard life had been to his former cabin boy, would always stay. Rouge knew, she saw it every day in her man's face.

Shanks had nearly died from the pain of losing his crew, Roger's crew. He nearly starved to death, all forgotten in the gutters of Louge Town, but gladly was found by a boy who was now his first mate. He was haunted by nightmares ever since the execution. There was anxiety about failing his own crew, but still the cabin boy had grown to a fine captain. How could he possibly, possibly loose a limb to a giant eel? How could life let it happen. How? How?!

“Roger, you're shaking the cloud,” Rouge hissed. The former pirate king had released his Haki, still present, even in death. It wasn't on will, but unconsciously, as the fear and anger engulfed him.

“I'm sorry,” he answered her, Haki subsiding, while his eyes never left the redhead. Rouge grabbed his hand, pressing it hard, to give him something to hold onto. She knew how much Roger had loved, still loved, Shanks, who was after all wearing that precious straw-hat of his. If he would die now… but he didn't. He was all but smiling at the little boy he had rescued, and after a few days, merely a week, he announced the Redhair Pirates would set sail, again.

“What do you think, Roger? Will he manage, with just one arm?” The voice was a little wavering. Even she had become fond of her man's former cabin boy, and she knew how dangerous the Grandline was. But Roger just shook his head slightly, and pointed down.

“Look,” he said, and Rouge did just as she was told.

There stood Shanks, saying good-bye to the boy he had saved, by giving his arm. When he placed the old straw-hat on top of the black hair laughter sounded above the sky, over the clouds. It was loud, cheery, and just what Rouge needed to hear. Everything would be alright if Roger could still laugh like that.

“He will. They will.” The shaking of his head showed Rouge how amused Roger was at what happened down there. She didn't fully understand it, but she didn't needed to. The knowledge that Roger knew was enough. But he surprised her, by running a hand through his hair, a gesture he didn't do often.

“Love?” Rouge asked him, and he pulled her closer, his glance wandering into the width of the endlessness death carried.

“I always thought I made a change to the world, with those words I said, about One Piece. I just realized it had been nothingness, compared to the sea change Shanks just started. This boy will get big, and I'm glad my cabin boy saw what I was too blind for,” Roger mumbled and then a soft kiss was placed on her hair. Rouge didn't mind, but she kept the words at her heart, wondering what the future might bring.

 


	17. video recording (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From my benn-beckman rping blog  
> Shanks tapes Benn masturbating  
> explicit sexual content

The video recording den den mushi had been a birthday present for Shanks. Benn hadn’t been really sure what his captain wanted it for, but who was he to refuse him such a wish, especially when finding unique presents became hard after such a long time of sailing together. When Shanks however requested what he wanted to do with it, Benn’s head flushed in a flaming red and words got lost. This in itself was extraordinary, because usually he was used to Shanks’ crazy ideas.

He had declined first, but as he now was standing in his captain’s room, the door securely locked to keep any unwanted crew member outside, it was obvious he had given in later. A part of Benn regretted it, though as he watched Shanks install his newest toy. He hadn’t felt this insecure in a very long time.

“I want to film you while you jerk off. You have no idea how irresistable you look when you cum, eyes closed, mouth slightly open to gasp for air. You’re beautiful Benn and I want you to see it.”

Shanks’ words still rang in his ears and when his captain turned to him - a silent sign he was ready - his cheeks were covered with a slight red again. His insecurity must have shown because Shanks smiled and close the distance between them to kiss him. Any doubt melted at the beautiful and familiar touch, and when Shanks whispered soothing words into his ear Benn was content to fullfill the requested wish.

As Shanks had suggested, Benn wasn’t concentrating on the video recording den den mushi, but just looked at his partner and lover who had made himself comfortable on a chair in the corner of the room. It was him who he looked at when he brushed off his coat that floated to the ground soundlessly. Fixing and holding the eye contact the next that was gone was the sash. By the time Benn opened his black button up shirt his fingers weren’t even shaking anymore and a litlte smirk escaped his lips when he saw how Shanks followed each movement, eyes glued to his abs.

He brushed off his slacks with a slow movement and they covered his feet, which hadn’t worn any shoes or socks. Stepping out of them and leaving the pile of clothes where it was Benn tuned his back to the camera to walk to the bed. With every step he pushed his boxers a little further down, revealing his behind.

Stark naked, facing Shanks and the camera only with his back, Benn waited a moment until he turned and sat himself on the bed. The low gulp that sounded from the corner increased the little smirk and would this go on with Shanks on top of him, Benn would probably have been able to forget that he was being taped completely. Unfortunately Shanks remained seated and Benn’s hands started to shake lightly again.

Biting his lower lip he searched for Shanks’ gaze which was clouded with desire and half-lidded eyes. When the sought for security was realized though, a soft smile graced his captain’s handsome face. A little nod and an encouraging grin were the last push Benn needed to proceed.

Pointer and middle finger were enclosed by sore lips before Benn directed his hand to his flat cock. The first stroke felt strange and rough, no matter the salvia functioning as kind of a lube. But he didn’t stop, instead added to the pressure and used the first leak of precum to his advantage.

It didn’t take long to awake his member and the rough breathing that wasn’t his own helped to add to Benn’s arousal. Shanks’ head leaned against the wooden wall behind him, his legs spread a little and the buldge visible to enflame Benn’s imagination.

Usually the first mate would keep his eyes closed while working on himself but now he wanted to see every expression on his captain’s face. He had increased the pace again, hand rolling around his hard cock, the other behind him to lean into it. His breathing became rugged while the tension in his veins built up.

Shifting a little to sit more comfortably on the bed, Benn leaned a little further back, his elbow bending, his hand never stopping to stroke and massage. His head tilted, gray hair falling in his eyes and for a moment he let go to brush it back.

“God Benn~”

The moan surprised him as much as it aroused the first mate. A gasp for air mixed with the sweet sound his captain was making and seeing how Shanks bit his lips, eyes shimmering with need, unfolded another pang of desire in Benn. A heat like consuming flames rushed through him, his strokes becoming irregular his body ready for release.

Eyes like the clearing sky after a raging storm pierced Shanks’, when he gave into the pressure. His back arched slightly, hands digging into the mattress when he poured himself over the covers of the bed, some of the sticky white even hitting the floor. Shanks’ name died silently on his lips and for a moment he was lost in the pleasure. The next thing he realized again was a click that told him the camera had been turned off.

With a smirk he watched Shanks who turned to Benn, eyes clouded and pants painfully tight. Chuckling lightly, Benn pushed himself off the bed and closed the distance between them, his lips finding Shanks’, kissing him forcefully while his hands opened the trousers.

“I think your release is next.”


	18. funeral procession (Shanks+Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war of the greatest is over, Newgate died and the Whitebeard Pirates mourn... but what bothers Shanks is that his own crew seems to grief, too. For reasons Shanks has yet to find out.
> 
> A request by revolutionarydragonboy who won my 200 followers Give-Away and request an after war-fic.

Majestic and gracefully sailed the Red Force behind a much smaller ship, like a funeral procession or a guard, to protect those who were already broken. Unlike normal times the boisterous crew kept their silence, working quietly to keep their home running. At the railing stood a man, kind of rugged looking and yet with an aura of dignity, much like the ship he stood on. A soft shimmer of red danced on his face, light reflected from his hair. It was much too warm, the sun too bright for the oncoming days of grief.

Brown eyes traced the lines of the Black Moby, the only ship left for the remaining Whitebeard Pirates. It was smaller, much smaller than the actual Moby had been and even smaller than the Red Force. It should carry more people and yet, too many had died.

Blood, so much unnecessary blood-shed, for a war of justice. Shanks hated the word. He had learned at the age of eight that justice could be bend into what fitted best. For the world government. The marines. People who supposedly ruled. Not for pirates. Never for them.

A sigh left his lips and his arm reached for his stump. One day change would come. He believed in it, he had never believed in something more. But until then days would pass, a boy had yet to become an adult, and hopefully would never become old. Grief. There was too much grief.

Feet, the soft sound of his sandals on wooden planks, accompanied his turning, dragging his gaze away from a fallen crew to his own. The Whitebeard Pirates had to mourn their father and brothers, his own was just a guide, an upholder of justice, the pirate’s justice, or equity, human rights. And still they grieved, silently indeed, but they grieved.

Gulping, Shanks tried to get rid of the lump in his throat, but it was a persistent reminder that something wasn’t right. A feeling of pain hung in the air, drenched by the grief, but this grief was differently from the mood on the Moby. Fear saturated it and stolen glances between men, his men, tugged at his heart. He wished to know what was going on in the minds of his crew, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

A chilly gust tousled up his hair and carried the scent of smoke. It stung in his nose, a strange mixture of the salty sea breeze and the tart flavor of his first mate’s favorite cigarillo brand. It felt like home and made his heart beat a little slower. Home. Security. Benn.

Steps of heavy boots announced who had already been detected by his presence and vice. No words of greeting left their lips, the need to speak unnecessary when gray, concern-filled eyes hit his. Unable to look away Shanks lifted his hand, but it fell back to his side when he realized he had no clue what to do with it. Even in those usually calm and content eyes was shimmering grief. Grief and fear. It made Shanks shudder.

Another gust tousled up their hair, red like blood and silver like iron. Looking away was still impossible, the distance that separated them just enough to keep the gaze. If Shanks stretched out his arm, he’d be able to touch the other, make sure he wasn’t a ghost. A touch, so easy and yet so hard. He needed that touch so badly.

“What is going on?”

The voice was merely a whisper, a breathing of irritation, anxiety and the cold grip that clenched his heart. Sun warmed his skin and still his overall feeling was coldness.

Eyes like smoke broke the contact and gazed next to his head, watching the sails of their former enemy’s ship. Whatever they were now, the Whitebeard Pirates and the Redhair Pirates, Shanks knew they weren’t enemies anymore.

The silence kept on, bodies close enough to feel the other man’s heat, but too far away to spend warmth. A sad smile tugged at Benn’s lips when his scarred face turned again, to look at his captain. An expression, so heart-breaking Shanks wanted to kiss it away, was drawn on it. But he didn’t move, neither did Benn. Instead he was faced with searching, wonderment. Until slow realization seemed to sink in.

“You can’t guess…,” Benn voiced, the vibration of the words stirring something in Shanks, something old and long forgotten. It had been neither a question nor a statement, but something in between, making him wonder if he had to answer. He wanted, to fill the void that seemed to absorb him, but he had forgotten how to speak.

His hand lifted again, just to do something, and Benn took it, not giving him the chance to wonder about his movement. It laid flat in his counterpart’s palm, just resting there, granting Shanks the connection he needed so badly. A part of him eased, falling into the touch, like he would fall into Benn’s hands again and again.

For a while the silence enveloped them. A ship full of people was never completely quiet, but for those two men it was unimportant. There was enough absence of sound to let them feel the grief, the fear, the future that would come eventually. Shanks could feel the glances of his men, they had never stopped to watch him, eyes begging for a move he hadn’t figured out yet. The answer was in front of him, the same shimmer of uncertainty in those familiar eyes.

“Tell me, Benn…”

An order as much as a plea and it was met with a sigh, something shifting, letting walls crumble to give way for hidden emotions. Fingers wrapped around his hand tighter, pressing it like they needed the support to speak. Suddenly their roles had changed and Benn needed the comfort, the strength. Before he spoke he reached for his stub of a cigarette, looking at it and throwing it into the water, watching the wind carry it away. Forever gone.

“What if it’s you? Your body, your death, your coffin. Shanks…,” Benn whispered, trembling slightly, while realization sunk in and helped the captain to understand. Grief, fear, soundless pleas, not for what had happened but for what could happen. It shocked him as much as it eased him. This time, when he lifted his hand without letting go of Benn’s, he knew what to do with it. Skin met skin, a thumb brushing over pale cheeks, feeling the stubbles and catching salty pearls.

“It’s not. Not yet!”

Answers no one wanted to hear, the least his ever loyal first mate, but they needed to be spoken. Soft, soothing, but still not promising, as he wouldn’t promise what he couldn’t keep. Pirates weren’t born to live long. Instead his voice was strong and reminding of a promise that had yet to be fulfilled. Determination was what drove Shanks, and hope. Always hope.

Their eyes met again, less gray and brown, much more silver and gold. Wind let their strands fly and a hand was placed at his chest. It might look pushing, but actually was pulling him closer in some kind of way.

“Don’t… please, never give your life for us,” Benn pleaded, fingers scratching over Shanks’ chest in a desperate attempt to keep his composure. It was brushed off, gently but firmly as the hand left the cheek and darted for the wrist, keeping his first mate in place.

“That is not for you to decide.”

Sharp like a knife, words cutting. He saw it in the flinch, in the pain that clouded this familiar face. Pain Shanks never wanted to see and still, it had been worth saying it. It lifted something off his chest. A burden, the burden of letting people, his crew, believe he was valued higher just because he was the captain. All of them were equal, every single man.

“Please,” Benn said, another, last attempt to convince him, but he hadn’t had the chance to go on speaking. The irritation and wonderment from before was replaced by firm determination. It was shown in a tightening grip and created a hiss. Anger radiated in the other’s eyes, gray smoke becoming thunder clouds.

“These men would die for you; I would die for you. Why won’t you let us?” came like a lash, words the whip of concentrated anger, converted fear. A sharp jerk tried to free the hand out of his grip, but Shanks didn’t let him, holding him tighter, pulling him close. It was as if he could feel Benn’s beating heart. Wanting to hold him forever.

“Because I want you to live. For me, for you, for everyone.”

Anger was faced with softness, each syllable like a butterfly kiss, while gentle brown eyes carried the smile. Moments passed without anything happening, Benn’s eyes widened, lips parted, ready to speak without a voice coming out. Then he broke, a heavy body hitting the planks, dragging Shanks with him. Sobs were muffled by a strong body, a white shirt, and a comforting body, as the ever strong first mate clung to his captain. The arm loosened the grip to wrap around the body, his chin placed on silvery strands as he looked into worrying faces.

Each and every man on deck had watched the scene, not in earshot, but close enough to see. They stared in disbelief, but only saw a redheaded man holding his best friend, smiling like nothing in the world had happened, and still everything at once. Red and silvery hair mixed as the wind drove through the strands, drying salty tears. The sun bathed everything in golden light.

“Death is inevitable. Since I’m eight I know. I saw good man die, too many of them. It’s part of life. But I also see you live and I want to keep seeing you live. It’s what I enjoy in life. So please, stop thinking of dying for me. Stop thinking of death until you have to face it. Then you can grief, but until it happens live.”

The voice echoed over the deck, not shouting, just loud enough to reach everyone’s ear. The silence, the listening men, allowed him to not raise his voice and still touch his crew. With every word he said smiles started to return. Eyes became soft, realization sunk in, determination filled chest. They understood and Shanks was glad they did. As a man who had constantly faced death, from childhood on, he needed life to take place. Even in times of war, especially in times of war.

“We will, captain, we always will,” a voice said, and men nodded, before they returned to whatever they had done before. No one needed to talk about what had happened to emphasize the importance of their captain’s words. Instead they gave him space to care for the man he held.

“Will you live for me, too, Benn?”

A last strangled sob combined with dry laughter bubbled against his skin. Hands gripped his shirt, pulling at it, while he drew soothing circles in the broad back. Shanks knew the answer, he had always known, but it felt good to hear it.

“Of course, you idiot, of course,” was said, half a choke, but it was enough to place a smile on Shanks’ lips. Not letting go, he kept on holding Benn, his first mate, his best friend, his reason to live, for over twenty years now, to sooth him, his fears and every concern. Life had come back onto the Red Force, not with a bang, but silently, slowly, while it had yet to come onto the Black Moby, which sailed in front of the Red Force, carrying the loss of a whole generation.


	19. Nothing has changed (Franky/Robin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chillin-at-partys-bar wished for a heart-to-heart with Frobin. Not sure if this is what she had in mind ^^  
> A little suggestive, a little fluffy, much words

It was uncharacteristically cold on deck of the Sunny, but Franky refused to wear more than his Hawaiian shirt and his briefs. As a cyborg he wasn’t feeling the cold too much, and he assumed that everyone would shiver a little when being more than a hundred feet under the sea level. His eyes darted to the bubble that saved them from drowning, following the shimmering of the soap-like texture. It was only visible due to the many lanterns that illuminated the ship. The rest of the sea was pitch black, the sun unable to send their light to such depths.

Shaking his head, he focused on his task in front of him again. Many small parts of their ship needed repairing. Rayleigh and the rest had taken good care of the Sunny, but the man was no shipwright, neither had been that strange man Kuma, nor Duval and his men. It was his task to make sure their home was in perfect shape, and if it meant to switch bulbs or change ropes, he would do it.

In those two years Franky had managed to handle his new body perfectly. It must have been a surprise for the rest of the crew to see him again, even more parts of him rather steel than flesh. It was for the sake of the people he called his friends and family now, for his dream to cross the Grandline with the Thousand Sunny – his dream ship – and for his captain. For Luffy, the ever grinning Luffy who had lost so much two years ago.

Yes, Franky didn’t regret the change of his body, but a tiny part in him wished it hadn’t come to it. Not because he feared the judgement of people he didn’t care for. Others were unimportant to him. All that mattered was the opinion of his crew, and almost all of them had reacted in such a super way that he could just grin at the thought. Chopper had looked so amazed. But Robin… the only comment he had gotten from Robin had been that he hadn’t changed at all, right at their first meeting after those two faithful years. It should calm him. He wished it would, but it didn’t. Because Franky knew it was a lie.

Things had started sometime after their leaving from Water 7. Things between him and Robin. A lot was unclear. They hadn’t really spoken about what kind of relationship they had exactly, nor what it meant for their everyday life. No rules had been set up, no words had fixed anything between them. It was hard to find personal space on a pirate ship most of the time and Franky took what he got. It didn’t matter to him. All he knew was that he loved Robin, this wonderful, wonderful woman and all he needed to know was that she loved him back. She did. She had shown him time and time again. Words weren’t necessary to express what they felt. Or so it had been before the two years.

Pushing those depressing thoughts aside, Franky started to work on the lantern again. They needed all the light they had to orientate themselves under water, it had been bad enough already that many lights hadn’t been working properly. Mechanical fingers worked automatically, doing the right movements without much thought. It left enough room for him to think. A dangerous development.

Again, his mind wandered back to those words Robin had said, when she had met him on deck of the Sunny. Her smile had hit him, as it had that first time, after all the trouble with the CP9 had been over. Those words she had screamed as an answer to Luffy, that she wanted to live, were burnt in his memory. Feeling her smile after all those desperate years she had survived, it still warmed his heart and Franky was glad and honored to be a part of that smile.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

It was nice to hear, but when he looked into the mirror, he saw with his own eyes that it wasn’t true. More and more he had become a machine and too many things on him were steel to still call himself human. He had been a cyborg before, but now he was it even more. A thing, more than a person, and a thing couldn’t be loved, could it?

The fear of rejection had kept him from approaching the woman he loved and the circumstances had allowed him to do so without making it look suspicious. Many stories wanted to be told, his friends used every free minute to tell about their two years apart and Franky had to admit he had trouble to believe all of those words, yet he knew no one of his crew would lie. Okay, maybe Usopp would, but his tales seemed less fascinating compared to for example Zoro’s training with a man he wanted to defeat. Mihawk sure was a strange man.

Thoughts wandered freely and Franky enjoyed the moment of solitude. The rest of the crew was doing random tasks, Sanji probably cooking, Luffy playing with Chopper and Usopp somewhere on the other side of the ship. He could hear low laughter, while he had nearly finished changing the bulb. It was good to have space as he had been constantly with company for the last few weeks. He loved his friends and his life. It was super fantastic and it had been his own decision to follow Luffy. However, now and then a little me-time didn’t hurt.

The mechanic hand moved back into his body, accompanied with a little buzzing noise. Sighing lowly, Franky turned to move to the next one, when he spotted a figure leaning against the mast, regarding him from the distance. Robin’s features were surprisingly stern, an uncharacteristic expression compared to her usual constant smile.

Biting his lip, Franky knew he couldn’t put up a farce and pretend he hadn’t seen her, so he grinned no matter the grinning was a little off.

“Such an expression is surely not what I want to see on your face,” he said and watched her move. Her body pushed away from the wood that had held her upright, her slender figure moving and despite him not wanting it, he couldn’t force his gaze away from her. Those arms that swung slightly with every step she made, the black hair framing her face. Lips so kissable and soft, yet formed to a thin line. She was mad at him.

“You don’t love me anymore,” fell from her lips and despite it hadn’t been a conclusion it also hadn’t been a question. The words felt like a slap, burning fingers on his cheek and for a moment Franky had to close his eyes in utter sorrow over the current situation between them. He could end it here, lie into her beautiful face and affirm her accusation. It would be so easy, and maybe less painful in the long run, but Franky had never been one to lie.

So he didn’t and only one word left his mouth. “No.”

There was hope in her sky-like eyes, a shimmer like the heaven on a cloudless day. It pained him to see so much yearning, her the brightest spot in this surrounding darkness. But how could she look at him with those wisdom hues and yet not see the truth? He was no human anymore.

Her slender legs moved her even closer, the skirt covering her skin and yet it left so much space for his imagination. Pictures danced before his inner eye, showing him what had happened two years ago and showed him how much he missed her skin on his. It always felt so warm next to his iron filled body. Whenever she had shared the bed with him she had made him forget parts of him weren’t real.

Shortly before she would step into his personal space she stopped and all Franky could wish for was for her to come closer and make him forget his thoughts. Yet, she remained looking at him. Silence enveloped them, combined with the darkness, leaving an empty, somewhat numb mood that wasn’t helping his doubts. Her blue eyes never flickered from his face, looked at him as if he was the only person worth looking at. After a while he couldn’t stand it anymore and lowered his head.

“How can you still love me?” he mumbled, his voice merely a whisper, yet loud enough for her to hear. It seemed even the usual noises that came with being on a ship died down for a moment, to give Robin the ability to hear every little hush he said.

The grass under his feet was green, green and nothing other than green and not enough a distraction to not peek up. Looking at her was not possible, but not looking even more an impossibility. So he peeked, feeling like a sinner that wanted to impurify a goddess. Maybe it was the truth.

“How can I not still love you?”

Words, warm and soft, forced him to look up again, straight into her angel-like face. Whoever told those tales about angels being pale, blond and innocent had no clue what a real pure soul looked like, that was for sure. Franky was certain Robin must be a spirit come down to earth, why else would she smile at him, when he was just rejecting her? Yet her smile reached him, stroke his frightened heart and left him confused.

“Look at me. Robin, I’m not huma-,“ he tried to say but was interrupted by a hand pressing against his mouth and hindering him from speaking. It had come out of nowhere, connected to his shoulder and stronger than he remembered. A force, trained in two years, to seek her dream. Their dream. Luffy’s dream.

Suddenly he was aware of his beating heart, of the small tears that had formed in his eyes and the need for her. Feeling those fingers on his face made Franky aware how much he had missed this soft skin on his, and no matter this was a restraining gesture he gladly took in the feeling without struggling against it. For Robin he would gladly surrender, fall into whatever she demanded from him. No matter she didn’t, had never demanded anything.

Now her eyes were fierce, though, a shimmer in them darkened those bright hues. Lifting her hands, limbs grew and forced him down. He sat, unable to withstand the burning rage that pattered down on him. He had said something wrong. The chance to make things right had passed, or so he believed.

“All my life people have called me the Devil’s Child,” Robin started to speak, stepping closer and closer until she stood before his massive body. His head was still at the height of her chest, no matter he was sitting and Robin stood. He was big, massive and yet he felt small compared to her.

Words stuck in his throat, the inability to speak gave Robin a chance to go on, and she did. Towering over him, she looked down at Franky like an angel of doom, hands crossed over her chest, a dozens of hands still holding him in place. As if he had been able to move, anyway. He didn’t, couldn’t. Frozen-like he awaited whatever she wanted to do with him and he would take it. Each blow, each word, each razorblade through his heart, because it was better than not feeling her at all.

“I have been hunted down, feared by people who haven’t known me, accused of crimes I haven’t done. I have been called a monster nearly all my life, viewed as everything but human. I believed them after a while.”

Her voice had become more and more shaky the more she went on. Her feet had moved her over him, and with her last words she broke down, straddling him. The hands that had held him in place vanished and without much thinking Franky wrapped his arms around her back, holding her as she sank onto his lap. He could feel the warm skin, the heath that radiated off of her and a shudder went down his spine. Emotions run through his system, too many to name them all. All Franky knew was that he didn’t want to let Robin go, keep her on him forever.

“You are human. You love, care, live and breathe. Those people had no right to call out on you, make you believe that you’re something you’re not. Robin, every part of you is human and you have every right to feel like one. I don’t care how many times I have to tell you until you believe me. I will repeat those words until you accept who you are,” Franky said, his thumb brushing her cheek softly, almost carefully as he feared to hurt her. His hand was big enough to crush her skull, iron made for working not for loving. A painful reminder that he wasn’t meant for someone like her, yet he pushed those thoughts aside for at least a moment. A smile showed on his face, as he added, “If you’re anything other than a human I only accept you being an angel. A super angel.”

A soft chuckle was his answer, her face changing, smiling for a moment, before it became somewhat serious again. A sad expression mixed with pure thankfulness. Slender arms moved up, taking his hand and pulled it away from her face. He complied to it, and suddenly felt another one at his face, caressing it and fueling a flame in him that longed for more. So much more.

“If breathing, caring and loving makes me human,” she started, fixing her gaze with his and not letting go, “what makes you believe you’re not one?”

The words took his breath away. Unable to answer, Franky’s mouth fell open and he forced himself to close it again, as he realized he wouldn’t be able to answer. Had she just reprimanded him with his own words? It seemed so. What a cheeky woman. Cheeky enough to make him smile and falter in his belief he was too much steel to be a human anymore.

Uncontrollable want started to rise in him. Suddenly he was aware of her body on his, her skin on his and the two long years he hadn’t felt a woman’s body. Robin’s body. A sigh escaped his lips, a small glimpse of the desires that surfaced and wanted to break free.

“How can I be when most parts of me are steel?” It was an argument Franky wasn’t so sure anymore whether it counted. A few moments ago he had been sure this body of his stood in their way, but his believes had already crumbled and Robin’s smile showed him more and more that he had been a fool. A very big and massive fool, with a lot of steel. Yet a fool.

A laughter and mischievous glinting eyes let his walls crumble even more and when a very human feeling pelvis grinded against his very human feeling genitals it was impossible to keep quiet. “Robin,” dropped from his mouth, the noise too much sounding like a moan to hide his growing desire. Devil’s child wasn’t so far off, but for oh so different reasons. Steel hands steadied her hips when she redid the movement and caused Franky to see stars for a moment. This woman made him feel like a real man, and he would always treat her like a real man should treat a woman. With unconditional love.

“All parts of you that have to be flesh are,” she chuckled, but her voice had dropped a few notches deeper, a husky tone had mixed into it. “Your heart beats, it can die and it can live. And something else feels very human-like, too. Though I don’t mind it being hard as steel.”

The cockiness of her words made Franky blush a little and the soft expression on Robin’s face, when she spotted it, showed him that she found another reason to call him human. It was her smile, those blue shimmering eyes and the way she made him accept himself, that had made him fall for her. It seemed nothing had changed about it over those two years. What was a changed body to a constant heart?

“I love you, Nico Robin,” Franky said, and no waver, no stutter, nothing made these words less than being the complete and utmost truth. Her answer was growing limbs that allowed her to climb up to him, and when he realized it his hands supported her, so the additional arms could vanish and only two stayed which wrapped around his neck, pulling him close.

Lips crashed against lips, a kiss as heated and secure as it could only be after two years of absence and a deep connection, carried by what just had happened. When they let go there was scolding in her eyes, but it was added up with amusement.

“I told you, nothing had changed,” she said and this time Franky believed her. He gave in to the yearning only a human could feel, when he carried her to his working room, knowing no one would disturb them there for a while. He was a cyborg and a human as well. A human that could breathe, love, care and live. Just like those two years ago.

Because nothing had changed.


	20. a little bit of hope (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CidSin wished for: in a waiting room while they have loved ones in surgery // with Benn and Shanks?  
> There you go, darling :)

With a sigh, Shanks slipped into the waiting room of the hospital, trying to be silent to not startle the other people. Only after endless convincing Luffy had let the doctor taken him to surgery to care for his broken arm. The boy was too wild with his six years, and it didn’t even surprise the redhead that the boy had fallen from the kitchen counter, as he had tried to sneak him some more chocolate.

Wanting to spot an empty seat, Shanks realized except of another man, the waiting room was completely empty. It came as a little surprise. Wasn’t the newspaper always telling most accidents happened at Christmas Eve, because of family difficulties? But maybe this wasn’t counting for a small town like theirs.

Sitting across from the stranger Shanks tried to keep his curiosity at bay, but his eyes were drawn to the man nonetheless. The other looked at the floor, elbows on his knees while his face was buried in his hands. Misery was hanging over the figure like a big cloud, the long black hair a veil to keep any expression out. Whatever had happened here, it had to be something bad. Suddenly Shanks was glad that Luffy had only broken his arm, and in about an hour they could go back to Makino’s bar, where the evening was prepared.

Shanks knew it was rude to stare, but there was nothing else in this rather sterile room to keep his thoughts occupied. No matter the man wasn’t giving away much of his face, it was visible that he was both tall and well built. With a scowl Shanks scolded himself silently that he was checking the man out. He probably was here because of a loved one being in surgery after an accident and all he could think of was that this person was totally his type.

As if the man had heard the scowl, he looked up and into Shanks’ direction. His surprise told the redhead, that he hadn’t noticed someone else was with him in the room. The face was pale, dark rings under gray eyes and exhaustion written all over it. Yet, Shanks was sure the man must look stunning when laughing. The little, forced smile into his direction gave a hint of what could be written on this face. It lasted for a second then the head fell back down, and dark strands covered the face, again.

It was hard to not wonder what had happened to the man, or better said what had happened to whoever he was waiting for. Hopefully it wasn’t any girlfriend that had been in an accident. Not only because then he would be taken, but also because it was the worst to worry for a loved one, especially on the day of Christmas Eve.

Only then Shanks spotted some bruises on the man’s arms, dark marks revealed as the sleeves of the button up shirt had slipped up. Shanks' eyes widened a little, because it looked like someone had gripped and squeezed the man hard. Which was extraordinary in itself, as the other didn’t look like someone helpless when it came to protecting himself. Had he gotten into a fight? Had he protected someone who was now in surgery? The thought left Shanks’ head spinning and he cursed his vivid imagination.

The silent guessing and not being able to say anything went on and on, while the clock ticked the minutes away. Shanks would have loved to have something for distraction, but the magazines that lay on a nearby table were ages old and pulling out his phone didn’t seem appropriate in a hospital. So he listened to the silence until a door opened.

The doctor who stepped out was a nice-looking woman with brown, short hair. She had taken over Luffy’s case after the first doctor had scared the hell out of the boy. With his gaze on her, Shanks realized that the other man looked up, too. But just as before, it didn’t last long. The realization that he had to wait longer swept over the man’s face and it was maddening.

His thoughts were distracted soon enough though, as a familiar figure shot out of the door, the arm in a cast. A smile tugged on Shanks’ lips when he saw Luffy grinning as usual.

“Look, look at the cast. The doctor said everyone can put their signature on, and then it looks all funny and colorful,” Luffy shouted cheerfully, and nothing reminded of the crying boy from earlier. Again, out of the corner of his eye, Shanks saw the man lifting his head to look at who was shouting in the earlier silent room. At the same time Luffy seemed to realize it wasn’t only Shanks who was with him. In a comical way both faces had written surprise on them at the same time.

“Mr. Beckman? You’re not here to scold me, are you? It wasn’t my fault that the arm got broken,” Luffy said with big round eyes, staring at the man. It made Shanks almost laugh, while his brain tried to put a person to the name. He had heard the name before, but all he realized was that Luffy knew this handsome, yet so sad looking man, and now he knew said man’s name. At least the sir name.

A small smile tugged at this Mr. Beckman’s lips as he turned to both Luffy and Shanks, who had by now stood next to his little protégé. The doctor looked from one to another, before she decided to wait silently.

“No, Luffy, I am not. It’s not school, so I don’t have any right to scold you anyway. Glad to see you’re up and well, though,” the man said, his voice deep and just a little hoarse, a sign of either too much or too less speaking.

Just then something clicked in Shanks’ head and he realized this must be Luffy’s teacher. One the boy didn’t stop babbling about, as he was so cool, and nice, even though he never let them end the class earlier, and always checked on their homework. Somehow Shanks didn’t doubt one word of that.

“Mr. Red?” the doctor shoved in, now, probably as she had other things to do than listen to a small boy’s banter. With a nod, Shanks turned to her and listened to her explanation that the fracture had been neat and would heal easily. In about two weeks they had to come back, to check up on it, but nothing more on the matter. She left them after the explanation, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

Everyone had listened to the words, even Luffy but when the woman left, the boy’s attention was back on the other man, who still sat silently, but now looked at them instead of burying his face in his hands. With a big grin and no sense of empathy the boy walked up to his teacher and sat next to him. “Mr. Beckman, are you signing my cast?”

The hint of amusement in the man’s gray eyes and his twitch of lips felt like a ray of sunshine to Shanks. Again, he could only assume how stunning this edgy face must look when genuinely smiling. A part in his soul wanted to see it.

“Sure, Luffy. I just need a pen,” the man said softly, while Shanks immediately looked at the small table with the magazines. Hadn’t there been one? With triumphant he spotted the desired item.

“There we go,” he said, smirking a little, not really realizing it, as he walked up to get it. Just when he picked it up, the door opened again and another doctor stepped in, carefully. Everyone looked up, but only the face of Luffy’s teacher fell.

“Mr. Beckman?” the doctor said, and his voice betrayed the news he would bring. Something heavy gripped at Shanks’ heart while Luffy just looked from one to the other with big round eyes. He didn’t get the situation, probably wondered why everyone had frozen in place.

“Yes,” the man said, standing up. He was tall, taller than Shanks was, who wasn’t small himself. His muscles played under the black fabric of his shirt, and he tried to keep an upright stance, yet the doctor waved at him to sit back down. After a moment, the request was complied, but everything in the man was tense.

“I’m sorry to tell you that your father didn’t make it. We fought, but his organs had stopped working. It’s probably du-,” the doctor started but was stopped with a movement of Mr. Beckman’s hand. Nothing in his face had shifted, it was just pale and too neutral. Only his eyes seemed like endless pools of sadness.

“I know. Thank you for trying,” he mumbled and Shanks’ heart sunk. He should better get Luffy and get moving, but he couldn’t make a move, while the boy for the first time in his life just sat there, not saying anything.

“Do you need something?” The doctor asked, looking at the figure which was irritatingly upright, even though he had been so sunken in all the time Shanks had waited with him in the room. “We can keep him here until after Christmas, for you to call a funeral parlor. The hospital can recommend…” The voice trailed off when the doctor realized Benn was slowly shaking his head. “I’ll leave you be then. If you need something just ask someone of the staff, Mr. Beckman.”

With those words the doctor made his way, leaving the strange trio alone in the silent waiting room. For a moment, no one managed to say something, then Shanks gave himself a pull and walked up to Luffy. “We should get going, kiddo. Makino’s waiting,” he said softly, kneeling to Luffy’s eyelevel.

The boy looked from Shanks to his teacher, making a face that spoke of what he thought of the idea. His head lifted a little, before he spoke. “But then Mr. Beckman’s all alone and it’s Christmas. Also, he didn’t sign my cast, yet.”

“Luffy,” Shanks scolded. He doubted the man had any nerve to think of signing a boy’s cast. Also, even though he couldn’t spot any ring he was sure there was a family to go back to. “The mister probably wants to go back home, and mourn with the rest of his family.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow swiping over the man’s face before it was indifferent again. Immediately Shanks knew he had said the wrong thing and it hurt to know that such a nice man had no one to go back to and probably just lost his last family member.

“It’s okay,” he answered, voice low but strong. Turning a little the gray eyes looked softly at Luffy. “Will you get me the pen? Then I sign your cast.”

With a smile Luffy hopped off the stool and walked for the small table. Meanwhile the man looked at Shanks who was still kneeling and forgot to stand up again. Only the steps of the boy echoed through the room, and forced him to say something.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Shanks mumbled, realizing how close he was and how well he could see those gray eyes now, which regarded him. It made the redhead shiver.

The tension was broken with a sigh of the man, and he leaned back, rubbing his palms over his face, pushing his hair back. “Don’t be. It was only a matter of time,” the baritone filled the space between them. It seemed he wanted to add something, but wasn’t. And again, Shanks had no idea how to fill the silent void.

Fortunately, Luffy came back with the pen in hand, and while the man signed the cast, Shanks pushed himself up from the floor and watched them. When the teacher was done, he reached for Luffy’s good hand, to finally get going. “Say goodbye to your teacher, Luffy.”

“Goodbye Mr. Beckman,” the boy did as he was told, and the man nodded, smiling lightly.

“I see you next year, Luffy. Be a good boy for your father.” The words were so soft spoken that it took a while for Shanks to register the content. But it was Luffy who corrected the other man, looking utterly confused.

“But I don’t know my father,” he said earnestly and Shanks realized he had to set things right. Grinning wearily, he shrugged.

“I’m his god-father. His father is working abroad.”

The small blush on the man’s face looked adorable and much better than the pale skin. It made Shanks grin, but it was wiped off his face and replaced with irritation, when something different appeared in the gray eyes. “I guess you are Mr. Shanks then? I read a very interesting essay about you before the break started.”

Now it was Shanks’ turn to blush, as he remembered Luffy talking about an essay he had to write about his biggest hero for school. Apparently, he really had written about him.

Before he could gather his wits, Luffy took it upon himself to answer. Thankfully for Shanks, who was still a little too baffled for words. “I got an A for it, even though I put many spelling mistakes into it,” he said proufly and then looked from his teacher to Shanks again. “Can he not come with us? You can talk at Makino’s, cause I’m hungry.”

“Ehm…,” Shanks only said, as he really wasn’t sure what to say to the kid’s request. On the one hand he would love to invite the man, who apparently would return to an empty home, after he had just lost his father and had no family to go to. It broke his heart to know so much. Christmas Eve was no day to be spend alone. But emphasizing the request was highly inappropriate.

“Thank you, Luffy, but I guess I’m not a guest your family wants to have at their table, today. It’s a day you should celebrate with your loved ones after all,” the man answered, politely declining. Luffy was just pouting at that and somehow the answer was, what pushed Shanks to say the next words.

“I doubt anyone would be offended if you came. Christmas Eve isn’t a day to be spent alone either.” The words were calm and sounded like someone else had spoken them, even to Shanks’ own ears. Automatically his eyes were drawn to the gray ones and a small flicker of hope showed in them. Not looking away, he went on, wanting to see more of the sparkle and less of the numb sadness. “I’m not telling you to, but it’s an invitation.”

Silence overtook them again, the clock on the wall lowly ticking. Then a sigh was heard and a small smile graced the face, framed by black hair. “I’m Benn,” he said, stretching out his hand which Shanks took. Warmth spread through his body as he did.

“Shanks,” he answered, and even though he knew it would be strange as Benn would still be mourning, and would feel like a guest only, who didn’t belong to the place, a part of him knew he could change that, with much time. Because Christmas wasn’t for mourning, but for bringing hope into one’s life. Maybe Shanks could. With little help of a small boy, who had just got his cast signed and his own cheeky smile.


	21. setting sun (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benn and Shanks are stuck on a roof, and talk about their future. End of school AU.
> 
> For Aerle, who whished for Shanks and Benn stuck on a roof on tumblr.

„What the hell are you doing?“ Benn said fiercely as he followed this redheaded catastrophe, who made his way up the stairs to the highest level of their school. It was already beginning to turn dark outside, and the lamps weren’t on in this corridor.

“I want to see the sun set,” Shanks laughed at the question and rounded a corner. Benn followed him after a moment, cursing under his breath, because he should have just stayed with the rest of his class who was having a great time downstairs.

Being in his last year of school and having all tests done, Benn and Shanks – the two class presidents – had managed to organize a sleepover in the school buildings, before everyone would head to explore the world. It had been Shanks’ idea, but Benn had been the one to do most of the work. He still didn’t get why the rest of the class had picked out them to be class presidents, but he couldn’t change it. The redhead was trouble all over, yet everyone loved him. He fitted perfectly, but his own place was debatable in this constellation.

“You can see the sun set from downstairs just fine,” Benn harrumphed, knowing too well all his talking wouldn’t help changing the teen’s mind. It never had in all the two years of them having to work together, to organize their prom, several meetings and whatever occurred when you were class president in your last years of school.

“Don’t have such a stick up your ass, Beckman. It’s so much better to watch it from the roof. Also, what are you fearing? That they throw you out of school?” Shanks’ laugh made Benn shiver, but not in an unpleasant way. He would never admit it out loud, but he had grown fond of the other over the last two years. His bright eyes seemed to sparkle like the sun on the ocean whenever he talked of what he wanted to see in the world after school. It made Benn dream big, no matter he knew he would be stuck in university to study medicine, like his parents wanted him to.

“I don’t have a stick up my ass,” he snorted, and followed Shanks outside, who had just pushed the door to the roof open. The stones cracked under his shoes and some tufts of grass were seen here and there. “At least not currently.”

It was just a mumble and he knew Shanks hadn’t heard, because he didn’t turn. When had it been, Benn had realized he liked men as equally as women? He had the feeling for years now, but it had just sunken in completely when this redhead before him had crawled under his skin.

Wind tousled up his long, black hair and Benn pushed it back with one hand, while he regarded the figure in front of him. The broad shoulders, the slender frame, the strong arms. Shanks wasn’t a boy anymore, but it had needed some time for him to realize so much. But when he had, it had hit him with full force.

A smirk tugged at his lips when he realized how cheesy it was, sneaking on the roof with the man he loved, to watch the sun set. No sunset could be as bright as this vivid red hair anyway.

“Are you coming, or do I have to drag you?” Shanks asked, turning back to him and Benn sighed. But a smile graced his lips nonetheless and he knew the other was aware of it.

“I rather walk by myself before I risk of falling down, because of you dragging me.” The pout was worth the little teasing, no matter Shanks started to walk off, arms crossed before his chest. When he didn’t stop, Benn realized he maybe had went too far. “Hey Shanks, wait for me!”

His little shout managed the other to turn again, and Benn stopped his little sprint to catch up as he took in the movement. Surprised, he saw hurt on the by now familiar features.

“I…,” Benn started but couldn’t form any coherent sentence to express what the expression did to him. Something shattered in his heart, a little tiny piece, especially when the other spoke.

“I would never want to hurt you,” Shanks said with a voice that was unusual for the cheery teen. There was meaning in the words and something deeper, more honest and promising. Something that made Benn’s heart beat a little faster.

“I know,” he mumbled, but the words only left them surrounded by silence. Somehow the beating of his heart seemed too loud in his chest, as they looked at each other in the growing orange of the setting sun.

In a movie, the two of them would probably confess to each other now, fall into each other’s arms and kiss deeply. But this wasn’t a movie and instead of a cheesy scene of sloppy kissing, a gust of wind drove through their clothes and a click could be heard. Automatically Benn closed his eyes, keeping himself from massaging the bridge of his nose.

“That was the door, am I right?”

An apologetic grin spread on Shanks’ face and he walked up to Benn, peaking over his shoulder to the entrance. His shoulders shrugged and Benn could feel the movement through the fabric of his clothes, because the other was close. Too close.

“I guess so,” Shanks spoke and Benn sighed.

“Well then we have to wait until someone finds us, because this door only opens from the inside without a key.”

“I’m sorry, Benn.” The apology managed for Benn to open his eyes again and look at the redhead who stood just some inches from him. Without much thought, he lifted his hand and stroke over the other’s lips, indicating the smile he missed seeing. A shiver run through Shanks, as he did.

“Are you cold?” he asked and added, “and don’t be sorry. What happened has happened. Someone will search for us at the latest when they start the pranks and realize you’re not with them.”

A little smirk slipped on Shanks’ face and it suited him so much better than the hurt Benn had seen just moments before. Though he was a little surprised, when the other reached for his hand and lead him to the edge of the roof, to sit down.

The sight was truly beautiful. Orange light painted everything in a warm shimmer, the edges of the city they were living in not gray anymore but almost golden. Leaning back, Benn held himself up with his hands, but slipped out of his jacket, when Shanks shifted closer, rubbing his naked arms. Placing it over the other, he couldn’t help himself to wrap an arm around the teen’s shoulder.

“Hey Benn,” Shanks said after several minutes of silence and just taking in the sunset. Humming, he indicated for the other to go on speaking. “Do you really want to study medicine?”

Taking several moments to answer, Benn sorted his thoughts beforehand. The question haunted him for weeks, months and he hadn’t found a real answer to it. He knew it wouldn’t bother him to be a doctor. Helping people was never wrong and with his grades he easily had gotten a place at the best university in the country. Yet, he didn’t know if he really wanted to, or if he just wanted to please his parents.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, tilting his head to look at Shanks. The younger regarded him from the side. “Why are you asking?”

“I just…,” he said and then shook his head as if he had realized he had started the sentence wrongly. Maybe he had, as he formed it anew. “You never really seemed to be in it with all your heart. But that could also be my imagination.”

“It’s not,” Benn confirmed the thoughts and started to look down at the world from above. “I just don’t know what else to do. I mean I could probably study everything, but nothing seems to really get me going. And with studying medicine I at least avoid getting into a fight with my parents.”

The words vanished with the air and instead of saying something Shanks just leaned in a little more, putting his head on Benn’s chest. He could smell the scent of the redhead, feel the warmth and it left him incredibly happy. These feelings wouldn’t last, but Benn savored every last second.

“Come with me.”

For a moment, Benn believed he had imagined the words, but when Shanks shifted, to place his hand on Benn’s, which was still steading him, he realized the other had really said those words. They left him speechless, while Shanks looked up from below straight into his eyes.

“Come with me travel the world. Maybe you find out what you want to do then and if not, you can still study medicine in a year,” he continued and it made Benn’s heart leap.

“Are you sure?” he asked and pictures of far-away countries, all inflamed by Shanks’ several stories crossed his mind. The other wanted to see the world and had made plans for it already. Every story had fueled Benn’s desire to make bigger steps towards freedom, too, but he had never worked up the courage to turn his dreams into reality, or speak with his parents about it. But the aspect to travel with Shanks…

“Yes, I’m sure. I wanted to ask you earlier, but… I wasn’t sure if you’d consider it,” Shanks mumbled and Benn chuckled at the words. Somehow a heavy burden had dropped from his heart. Maybe because he was given a chance to not set his life in stone just now. To know he would be with the man he loved helped a great deal, too.

“Have I scared you this much in the last two years?” he teased and just wanted to add, that he would love to come with Shanks, when the redhead turned, seriousness all written over his face. It made Benn stop in his tracks. “What?”

“To be honest what really scares me is to not see you for a whole year.”

Every word needed to sink in, and they did like heavy stones drowning in the wide sea. Blinking twice, Benn was again lost for words. How could a simple sentence like this take him by such a surprise? How could it steal his voice and leave his heart racing?

What saved him from answering was a call that didn’t belong to either of them. “What are you doing here?” flew over to them and both jerked to see Buggy staring annoyedly. “The rest is looking for you!”

Immediately something in Shanks switched and he laughed, springing up and walking over, clapping the other’s back amicably. “We were waiting for you to find us,” he said cheerily, back to his old self, or what Benn had considered Shanks’ old self. Though he suddenly wondered if this was really who the redhead was, or just a part of him with many other parts to explore.

Their classmate muttered something Benn didn’t understand, and with a last consider of the by now almost set sun, he stood up to catch up with the waiting figures. When the door closed behind him, though, he realized Shanks had waited patiently while Buggy was almost gone.

“Benn… I…,” he started, yet Benn just smiled as he had an idea what the other wanted to say. It wasn’t needed.

“I come with you,” was stated and Benn savored the shocked expression on Shanks’ face, taking it in with open admiration. It was time to reveal his feelings slowly anyway. A small voice in him whispered they were returned and he placed his hope on it.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Benn answered the question, the uncertainty, with determination. “I can’t always please my parents. They need to be shocked for once, at least.” A little chuckle was heard, but he went just on, taking Shanks hand. “Also, you’re right. The idea of not seeing you for a year is frightening,” he mumbled, “and too painful to even think of it.”

A sigh was heard and their finger entangled, while Shanks started to walk down, dragging Benn behind him. Something cheeky had sneaked its way into his smile. “Thank god, because I almost imagined to start studying right away, and that would have been hella boring.”

“What…?” Benn could only gasp, while Shanks laughed. This personification of trouble would always amaze him. Yet, it seemed this was all he’d ever wanted in his life. He would find out, and looked forward to a year full of adventures and new experiences, together with Shanks.


	22. sunsets and letters (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> redbloodlady wanted a fic with Shanks and Benn, where Ben induldges in a sunset. I'm sure she had something more romantic in mind, but I'm just in the mood for angst. Blame Black Sails, seriously ^^
> 
> however, I hope you like it, darling.

Shanks found him at the railing, where the setting sun was painting his hair in a golden shimmer. It played with his skin, colored it and let it sparkle. The sight made his heart clench in a bittersweet way, too beautiful to deny it but too painful to enjoy it fully. Something was not right. He had known the moment Benn’s eyes narrowed at the letter he had received this morning.

Leaning against the mast, some meters away from his first mate, Shanks just watched how engrossed Benn was in the sunset. The man didn’t move, just held his cigarillo between his fingers, both elbows on the wood. He wasn’t even smoking properly, a sign that Benn wasn’t here completely. His mind was wandering, to a point Shanks wasn’t sure he could follow.

Everything felt so surreal in this moment.

The scene was beautiful, the gold of the sun reflected by the wide ocean. Until they hit shore it would take them at least another day, maybe more. It depended on the favor of the wind, and one never knew how the weather would turn out on the Grandline. But all of this didn’t made it through to Shanks. Instead it was to him like he was a mere watcher, locked out to the feelings and thoughts of his first mate. His best friend. His love and life.

Squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing a hand over his face, Shanks neglected the thoughts as soon as they came. His feelings for Benn were secured in the deepest corner of his heart, unable to ruin that well-built trust they shared. There was more at stake than just a simple heartbreak. This crew could only function when Benn wasn’t afraid to speak up to him with every regard the men might bring up. Yet, Shanks knew he wouldn’t be able to withhold his feelings much longer. At one point or another words would slip. But not today. Not like this.

His hands dropped back to his side and a gust of wind took hold of his straw-hat, blowing it down from his hair. It fell on his back, held onto his neck with a cord. Shanks couldn’t muster up the energy to place it back on his red strands. Instead he kept on watching Benn’s back, the broad shoulders that were covered by a simple black shirt.

The fabric didn’t leave much to Shanks’ imagination, clinging tightly and showing the muscles underneath, the shoulder blades and the small of his back. It was covered by a black ponytail, the silk strands smooth. Shanks knew very well how they felt under his fingers, as he loved to run his hands through Benn’s hair. It had become a habit to tease, and Benn never seemed to mind, even though he complained weakly each time.

A sigh escaped his lips, longing welled up in his chest. The slacks Benn wore, green and loose, with too many pockets, covered a fine piece of ass. The boots completed his first mate’s outfit, a sight so familiar, Shanks could see it even with eyes closed. How much he wanted to tear every article of clothing from this body, claim him and hear Benn’s deep baritone moan for him. Yet again, those were thoughts for another day. Another lifetime.

By now the sun was no more golden, but a deep red. Like his hair, some could muse. Benn would muse. Just as if he had heard Shanks’ thoughts he turned and looked at Shanks, eyes meeting eyes. It didn’t surprise him that Benn knew he was there. He always did, as did Shanks. It was part of their relationship, to just know.

His gaze followed Benn’s arm, as he took a last drag of his cigarillo and then threw the stump over the railing. A small movement, his body not even turning completely for it. Shanks was unable to tear his eyes away.

The sun must play tricks on him, on his eyesight, because if he didn’t know better Shanks would have said Benn’s eye-color turned black just now, black and pained and maddening. But then it was gone and all that was left was a hue of silver, like the smoke he exhaled constantly.

Time stopped for a moment and when it flew again, Benn was in front of him, close and warm and beautiful.

A part of his brain, a part Shanks couldn’t control and always recognized the most random details, wondered where all the men were. The Red Force was big, but not that big. A bigger part ached. Just like that. Triggered by the quietness of his first mate. Pained by the expression he saw.

“Will you tell me finally what was in that letter?” he asked, his voice low no matter Shanks wanted to scream, or yell, or just grab Benn and kiss him until every frown was replaced with sweet pleasure. He did nothing of it, but forced his hands to stay at his thighs and his mouth not to quiver.

For a while Benn didn’t answer, didn’t move, just looked at Shanks and therefore rose his anxiety. Something in his chest tightened and grew heavier with each passing second of silence. Then Benn sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “You’ll not gonna like it.”

That was no surprise, because any other way Benn would have told him long ago. They didn’t have secrets between each other. Not such secrets at least. This was not about who drank the last bottle of rum after all.

“I rather loathe the truth then indulge in the sweet poison of not knowing.”

Benn was aware it was the truth, because he just smiled bitterly before his expressions fell back into place. Again, Shanks wished he could tuck his fingers in the hem of Benn’s shirt, pull him down and kiss the frown away. Instead he waited for an answer.

“Will you let me go through with whatever decision I’ve made to protect you?” he asked and a shiver ran down Shanks’ spine. It was that serious? He should have known but had masked reality with the bliss of obliviousness. What kind of captain was he?

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but that’s a certain no,” was answered lightly, sounding more careless than he actually felt. It changed when Benn sighed at the words, and shook his head with what could only be described as relief.

“I should have known.” The heaviness was still visible in Benn’s eyes but something was gone. Something heavy and heart-breaking. It was replaced with a flicker of hope. The impulse to feed those hopes was easy to follow.

“You should have, yes, but that’s a regret to stifle easily,” Shanks spoke, each word filled with more and more determination. It was so easy to be determined when it would ensure happiness. Not immediately but in the long run. “Now, my question still stands: What was in that letter?”

A gush of wind tousled their hair up, and for a moment Shanks had the feeling Benn wanted to reach out for him, to tuck a loose strand away. Instead he opted to fish for something in one of his pockets. When the hand came back up, he revealed a piece of paper, neatly folded to a square.

Shanks looked up from the paper to Benn, catching his gaze and a nod. Only then he reached for the letter to unfold it, read it. Every word made his stomach turn in anger, in disgust, in white hatred. But he stood his ground and didn’t say a word, until he was done reading. When he looked up his concerned expression had made way for something more animalistic and fearsome.

“You intended to give into the threat.”

It was no question and Benn didn’t understand it as one. Instead he just shrugged, fishing for another cigarillo. His fingers shook as he held it, the lighter shaking. After a moment, he gave up to light it, placing it behind his ear.

“It was my intention, yes.”

Snorting heavily, Shanks stepped even closer, closing the distance between them. His breath was on Benn’s lips and his eyes bore into his gray ones, when he curled his fingers in the shirt and pulled Benn down. The feeling of a speeding-up heartbeat made his adrenaline rage through his veins even more.

“Before I ever let something as outrageous as this happen to you, I shoot myself, and then all your heroic but foolish intention of sacrificing yourself for my safety goes to waste, anyway. Do you understand me?”

“Yes captain,” Benn answered, swallowing hard. Shanks could feel his Adam’s apple move under his hand. As a reaction to it, he let go, before his own feelings would get the better of him and he indeed would kiss Benn, right here, just like that. Maybe he should. To make a point. He didn’t.

“Tell the men to prepare for battle,” Shanks commanded, because there would be a fight, now, as he refused to comply. As if he ever would. With a simple nod, Benn made an attempt to turn, his wise eyes sweeping over Shanks’ face beforehand, taking in the features. Their mutual trust burned its way down to Shanks’ inner core. There was no hesitation, no act of reasoning in Benn’s submission to his order. How could he not love this man? “And Benn?”

With the last words, Benn stopped, turned back and raised an eyebrow in question. He didn’t need to speak to voice his thoughts.

“The next time don’t wait a fucking day to tell me,” Shanks added. It left Benn shake his head, but he grinned. A tiny, almost invisible grin, yet it was there, tugging at the edges of his beautiful lips.

“Aye capt’n.”

And with those words he was gone, leaving Shanks with his thoughts and a piece of paper in his hand. Ripping it into pieces, he walked to the railing, where Benn had stood before. By now it was almost night, the last rays of sunshine disappearing behind the horizon. When the wind took the shreds, to let the ocean swallow them up, Shanks’ expression turned grim. No one threated the Redhair Pirates without repercussions.


	23. Let me explain (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nucleartuna wished for a Benn/Shanks fic with “Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”  
> Well, it was easy to think of it, even though I don't think it's my best drabble. But hopefully it makes you smile a little.

„SHANKS!“

The shout was filled with audible rage and a great deal of annoyance, sounding through the wooden walls of the ship easily. Considering Benn’s bounty, his intelligence, his strength and his ability to think of the worst punishments, it was hard to blame the men for ducking their heads. They probably feared his wrath even though it was clearly directed towards their captain. Who looked pale himself. Shame on him.

“You knew this was coming,” Yasopp mumbled, while he stared at his plate, probably contemplating if it was worth the hassle to eat the rest in a haste and leave, or just move from his spot at the table next to Shanks to somewhere safe. He decided on the latter, patting Shanks on the shoulder, before he picked up his cutlery and cleared the spot. It made the famous redhaired pirate gulp.

“Don’t leave me,” he whined, yet he knew it was too late to plead for aid. This bunch of fearsome pirates would gladly give their lives for his well-being, but none of them was stupid enough to step between him and his first mate. Not when said first mate had any right to be angry. Not when it was his own fault entirely.

He truly shouldn’t have touched the rifle.

When the door was thrown open, it slammed against the wall with a loud bang and several gazes of pity grazed him. It was almost like he faced the grim reaper himself. No, actually he would prefer the grim reaper. Benn looked a lot scarier right now, his grey eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line and his brows furrowed. Not to mention he held his weapon in a fist. A broken weapon, but it was still very effective when used as a club.

Holding up his hand, and trying to sway Benn with his most charming grin, Shanks only managed to say, “Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”

“Explain?!”, was Benn’s answer and his voice sounded incredulous. It was also not really a good sign that his eyebrow twitched and the vein on his temple pulsed.

“Yes, you know, the thing people do when they want others to understand their actions,” Shanks kept on talking, because talking was good. It meant some more seconds before his inevitable death would come.

Benn stared at him, and no matter it was fucking frightening, Shanks couldn’t come around to realize that his first mate also looked like a god of wrath, beautiful and scary and ready to murder everyone who stood in his way. At least he would die blissfully.

“One minute. I’m counting.”

The tone of Benn’s baritone was so low and like a roll of thunder it needed a second for Shanks to realize he was allowed to speak. Which meant he had wasted one precious second of his time with staring. Oh well, there were worse ways to spend a second. Or an hour. An hour he didn’t have.

“Fifty-seven…” Benn pointed out, and it snapped Shanks back into reality. Oh shit, he really was counting.

“Look, it was an accident. I just wanted to see how it worked, and Yasopp was busy, so I didn’t want to disturb him and it couldn’t be so hard using a rifle. At least I believed it couldn’t be so hard, and you see I was wrong, but what is a man when he’s not allowed to do mistakes? Also, I’m sure we can fix it –“

“We cannot!” Yasopp chirped in, his voice sounding way too smug for Shanks’ liking and he gave the man a hard glare. It didn’t really help, and if his sense of time was right he had only thirty somewhat seconds left.

“Okay, we cannot. Thanks for betraying me. And that’s called loyalty. However, even if we can’t fix it, which we don’t know for certain yet, because mister Brain here didn’t really look at it thoroughly, even then, I buy you a new one. For your birthday! Yes, I wanted to buy you a new rifle anyway. I mean how old was this one? Ten years? Fifteen? You only deserve the best.”

And now Shanks ran out of arguments, and the steel stare told him Benn didn’t buy his bullshit at all, so he sighed and threw his hand into the air helplessly. Maybe Benn would kiss him one last time before he ripped his head off? Unlikely.

“Also, I love you and you love me. You would feel guilty killing me and I can’t let you live with that pain. It’s only self-preservation.”

Benn was still staring at him, but there was something different creeping into his expression. It replaced the rage with disbelief, then the disbelief was replaced with exasperation and in the end, he just groaned. Shanks had truly not believed such an outcome. It was almost too good to be real. It seemed the men were thinking similarly because they fidgeted helplessly on their seats.

Silence followed only disrupted by the occasional slide of a stool on the wooden planks. Then Benn rubbed his free hand over his eyes, which made Shanks gulp.

“Benn, you’re okay? I mean I am still alive. You haven’t shouted at me yet. You can, you know?” he offered, genuine worry in his tone. He hadn’t believed it would upset Benn this much. If he had known, he wouldn’t have touched the rifle. Yet, all Benn did was snort. Which was good, wasn’t it?

“I’m in love with an idiot.” It sounded almost desperate. “Someone help me.”

With those words, he tossed the broken rifle to the wall, marched towards Shanks and pressed a finger into his chest. It didn’t really hurt, yet Shanks still leant back, because you never knew. His eyes darted upwards confusedly, meeting Benn’s who looked determined.

“I am not waiting two fucking months for a new weapon and Yasopp will pick it, because you have now clue about firearms. Also, I want a whiskey, now,” he said loudly and someone scrambled to his feet, to fulfill the order, no matter it wasn’t their fault. Leaning down, Shanks could feel the hot breath at his ear, when Benn went on, this time only for his ears to hear, “And you have to make it up to me. Thoroughly!”

“Oh, I’m sure I can do that,” was Shanks’ reply, his mind already conjuring which ways would be the most suitable for this making-up session. Yet, when Benn gave him a look, he faltered. “What?”

“With making up, I mean you’re not allowed to do something stupid or childish for the next two weeks,” he stated and Shanks paled.

“What? But, but…” He couldn’t bring himself to reply properly, all his blood drained from his face. This was not what he had in mind just seconds earlier. And he knew that Benn knew, because his smug grin was telling volumes.

“Never. Touch. My. Rifle. Again!” he stated, plainly, and it left Shanks shiver, heart thumbing in his heart, while Benn just got the whiskey out of their man’s hand and downed it, a grim grin on his face. “Captain!”

Slumping down, Shanks hit his forehead against the table and pouted. He knew he deserved it, but it didn’t mean he had to like the outcome. “Fine. Will be some boring two weeks.”

“Good,” Benn stated and got up, “less work for me.” And with those words he left the galley, rifle and captain neglected.

He really shouldn’t have touched it.


	24. Nightly visit (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of-the-sea-and-music request Shanks/Benn with “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”
> 
> Shanks visits Benn, and Benn isn't as surprised as he might should be.

The first thing that crossed Benn’s mind when some loud noise startled him out of his sleep was that he really had gotten used to Shanks‘ antics by now. Because why else would he know immediately that this man who climbed through his window now was no burglar? Okay maybe the way the figure was missing an arm and therefore had some trouble navigating his body over the window frame helped. Or the way a burglar would hardly course loudly by bumping into a lamp and only merely saving it from crashing down to the floor. Or maybe… maybe it was just the way Benn always felt utterly and completely safe in Shanks’ presence, no matter the stupidity he took into action.

Rubbing his eyes slowly and adjusting to the dim moonlight which fell through the window, he turned a little to look at his unexpected guest. By now the lamp was standing safely again and a sigh was audible in the otherwise silent room. It seemed Shanks was glad he hadn’t made any further noise. Well it hadn’t been enough to keep Benn sleeping, but somehow he couldn’t come to mind. Not when he could regard Shanks undisturbedly. His slender frame seemed to not have any edge in the moonlight and his vivid red hair shimmered almost purple, tousled up and some strands stuck to his forehead. It made Benn smile.

“Shanks?” he muttered, voice still heavy with sleep but genuine and warm. Said one almost jumped out of his skin, nonetheless, which made Benn almost chuckle, but only almost.

“Benn?! I… ehm, I didn’t want to wake you. Go back to sleep,” he stuttered as a reply and no matter Benn was amused, he quirked an eyebrow. He was awake now, so he would take his sweet time to tease his… yeah his what?

A few months ago, Shanks mad moved into the house next to him, and what had turned out as idle chit-chat between doors had soon developed into deep friendship, until Shanks had asked Benn out. Despite himself, Benn had said yes and only then, when Shanks had kissed him, he had realized how right it felt, and how much he needed, wanted it, him, Shanks. They were dating ever since, but neither of them had stayed over for the night. Not that Benn didn’t want it, but he was content with going slow. They both were. It was just the right thing to do.

“I’m already awake. Though, why did you climb through the window?” he asked, pushing himself up a little, using his elbows and arms as leverage. His long, black hair fell over his face and he could see how Shanks’ eyes followed the strands’ movement down to his shoulders. They stuck for a moment on Benn’s bare chest before they snapped back to his face. A smirk escaped Benn’s mouth at it.

Obviously, Shanks had realized he had been caught staring because he blushed, which was covered by the moonlight rather well, yet his fidgeting and chewing his lower lip gave him away. To Benn it was the most adorable he’d ever come across.

“I wanted to get ice cream?”

His voice sounded so much like a question that Benn couldn’t decide whether he should laugh at it or just be mildly confused. He decided for the latter.

“Who crawls through someone’s window at…,” he turned, reached for his phone to check the time, narrowed his eyes at the sudden light and then looked back to Shanks, “4am to go for ice cream?”

“Me?” Shanks answered, still a little weary and Benn sighed, then smiled genuinely. He sat up even more, put the phone back and brushed away his strands to have a better view. Automatically he reached for a hairband on his nightstand to hold them back. With quick movements, he made himself a loose ponytail. When he was almost done, he could hear a small whimper.

“Shanks?” Benn asked startled, but Shanks only stepped closer, still chewing on his lower lip. It was quite captivating, the way his mouth glinted, red and kissable.

“It’s unfair,” Shanks stated, and his eyes swept over Benn’s chest, his arms, his face. There was no way Benn could not recognize it, and it affected him. Oh, how it affected him. “You’re sitting almost naked in front of me. That was not the plan.”

“Plan?” Benn asked, and his voice sounded a little hoarse. He wanted to blame it on the late hour, but he knew the real reason behind it. Going slow only worked for so long. And it wasn’t that they kept from touching each other. “To snatch ice cream, which I don’t own by the way, out of my freezer?”

Shanks fidgeted more than he had just a moment ago, his fingers playing with the hem of his long-sleeve. It was not possible to make out the color in the dark, maybe blue or brown? It fitted rather well, matching the dark jeans Shanks wore. He was a sight to behold, even or because of the moonlight coloring everything in a soft light. By now Benn’s heartbeat had sped up significantly.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he mumbled, and Benn perked up, confusion mixing with sweet anticipation.

“You did,” Benn answered, smiling, because no matter it obviously wasn’t the surprise Shanks had planned, it still was a delightfulness to have him this close. Well, he could be a little closer, obviously, but Benn hoped he was working on that.

“Not like this,” Shanks protested and whimpered. “Tomorrow is six months since we first met and I, you know, wanted to surprise you. Breakfast, coaxing you to stay in bed a little bit longer, finally get rid of those many layers of clothes.”

If it was possible, Shanks blushed even more, or so Benn believed. He wasn’t too sure with the light, but he could imagine. Something warm spread in his own chest and pooled in his abdomen. Stretching out his hand, he waited for the other to take it. When Shanks did, hesitantly, but he did, Benn pulled him towards the bed. Before he could fall, Benn steadied him and guided him down, to kiss him. It started out slow, but grew more heated with every second, until they both had their hands in each other’s hair and Shanks sat in his lap. If Benn wasn’t mistaken, and the fabric of the boxer rubbing against his growing erection didn’t really betray anything, Shanks could feel the effects he had on him.

Another whimper left Shanks’ throat, brushing against Benn’s mouth, which made him dizzy. They parted for lack of air and panted, the air between them warm and their foreheads still touching.

“You know, I can always go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t know of anything tomorrow,” Benn teased, catching Shanks’ lower lip and biting it lightly when the other pouted. A moan echoed between them, making Benn’s blood boil. “Or we change the order, and start with the last.”

Shanks’ eyes widened a little at the suggestion, before he smirked and leaned in again. “I go…,” he got out between kisses, “with the latter.”

It made Benn chuckle against the warm lips caressing his, before he slipped his hands under the shirt, to feel the warmth and smooth of Shanks’ skin. It indeed had been a rather pleasant surprise to have Shanks climb through his window. Yet, he still pushed the other a little away from him. It granted him another pout.

“Don’t stop!”

Benn leaned in to Shanks’ ear and bit into the earlobe lightly. A shudder rushed through Shanks, which Benn felt on his own skin. He smirked at second shudder, when he whispered, “Remind me tomorrow to show you where my spare key is hidden.”


	25. "Why are you naked?" (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks/Benn  
> Rating T I guess and the prompt was "Why are you naked" from Aerle. Hope you like it :)

Whatever Shanks was doing, Benn knew he hadn’t thought about it one damn second. There was a representative of each their allies on this island, some of them not even liking each other and his captain went missing.

Not that Benn believed something had happened to him. For once, this was one of their own islands and secondly, he would know. He would just know.

So instead of having this meeting over and done with, he followed Shanks’ vivre card he always kept with him, walking down stone houses and dusty streets until he saw the water of the Grandline and the Red Force. A snort escaped Benn. If this damn fool was sleeping, he would kick him the whole way back to the town hall.

With swift steps he boarded their ship, shouting to their watch to stay put, nothing had happened and made his way under deck. He really didn’t need the vivre card anymore, but he followed it nonetheless, straight to Shanks’ cabin.

With a crash he pushed it open, the wood creaking as it hit the wall.

“The fuck you’re lounging in he-,” Benn started and stopped when his eyes finally fell on the figure lying on the bed. For a moment he didn’t know what to say and at least… At least! it seemed Shanks was in the same state. Then he caught his breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Patience Benn. Patience!

“Why are you naked?” he asked and his voice sounded resigned even to his own ears. God, any other day and he would probably have sprung his captain, but not today. Not now!

“I just…,” Shanks said flatly, waving his hand up and down, pointing towards his body and then let it fall back. A weak grin slipped over his face, coming and going in a second when he realized Benn was truly not in the mood. “I forgot something, didn’t I?”

A sigh left Benn’s lips and he rolled his eyes, before he looked around, searched and found Shanks’ trousers and threw them towards his captain’s naked form. “The meeting. The meeting you wanted!”

“Oh,” Shanks managed to say, before he blinked and then blushed. “Isn’t that tomorrow.” He reached for the trouser and covered his crotch. “No, of course not or else you wouldn’t stare at me like you’d kill me any moment.” There was silence for a moment, then Shanks added. “You know you’re scary like this?”

Benn just closed his eyes, breathed in and out, and then he chuckled. He just couldn’t contain himself, because seriously, if he would throw a fit every time Shanks did something weird or stupid or crazy he would die from a stroke sooner than later.

With a few steps he reached the edge of the bunk and leaned down to the now sitting Shanks to kiss him. When he let go and straightened again, he pulled the other up with him. “Get into your clothes. The sooner we get to the meeting, the sooner we can come back here.” He reached for the trouser that had fallen to the floor and held it open to make it easier for Shanks to step into it. “And then I help you take off your clothes and not get them back on.”


	26. Don't die on me please (Marco/Thatch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thatchtheawesomecook asked for "Can I ask for 15. “ Don’t die on me– Please. ” with MarcoxThatch?"  
> Of course :)  
> AU where Thatch died of poisoning rather than of blood loss

“Don’t die on me,” Marco whispered into the crook of Thatch’s neck, again and again. “Please.”

It was a plead, a plead he knew would neither be heard nor fullfilled. Their doctors bussied around him, shouting and working, but the fact alone that no one had brushed Marco aside yet spoke for itself. Thatch would die and nothing could help him now.

“Ma..r.co,” a voice mumbled, ragged and strained and Marco lifted his head, only slightly, to look into the soft, brown eyes of the man he loved. Poisoned, by someone he once had called brother. Poisoned for a devil’s fruit Thatch would have given over freely. Poisoned. The head-chef of the Moby Dick had been poisoned.

“I’m here. I’m here, love, I am here,” Marco mumbled, unable to form any coherent thought other that he would find and kill Teach. Because it was what this bastard of a traitor deserved.

He wasn’t a revenge-seeking person. He didn’t like blood, violence, war. He didn’t, never had. But Teach, Teach needed to be eliminated or he would do more and more harm to the world.

“Mar..co, don’t,” Thatch rasped, lifting his hand which Marco clutched. He faintly realized how the monitor beeped slower and slower in the background. He heard sobs and chokes, silent cries of grief from his brothers, but it was so far away. Everything was far away. “Don’t… go.”

The words were low and almost silent to Marco’s ears and for a moment he believed he had misheard. But there was something in Thatch’s eyes that told him he hadn’t. He clutched the hand a little tighter, shook with the effort not to scream.

“He poisoned you,” Marco said, hissed almost but Thatch shook his head again. Faintly but Marco realized the movement as what it was.

“He’s.. dan…ger..ous. Be sa..fe. Take ca..re.” For a moment Marco closed his eyes at the words. Unable to cope with the emotions that flooded him. This was not right. This was not happening. It was a bad dream. A nightmare. In a moment he would wake up.

“Marc…o,” Thatch panted, through the harder coming breaths. “Promise… me.” His arm shook lightly and Marco realized Thatch wanted to lift his hand. He helped him, let the other lead until the fingers brushed his cheek. He hadn’t realized he was crying. “Promi…se …”

And Marco leaned down and kissed him, not wanting to hear it again. “Of course,” he sobbed, kissing Thatch one last time, caressing the lips, brushing his fingers over his brown, soft hair. “Of course.”

Tears hit Thatch’s face, wetted it, as Marco’s eyes seemed to never stop from crying. “I love you!” he said. “I love you!”

But Thatch’s eyes had already fallen shut and his breathing had stopped. A constant, unbearable noise came from the monitor and while Marco was lost in the shattering grief, another, more hot-headed man rushed out of the room, determined to find who had done this to his best friend and brother.


	27. haunted house (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerle asked for “I swear my house is haunted.” and ShanksBenn  
> I went from here to there and have no idea what I just wrote xD

„Haunted? Like in ‚Casper‘ haunted, or more like ‚Ghost’ in which lovers reunite?” Benn chuckled at Shanks’ incredulous expression. The redhead was pulling a face, feeling, rightfully, mocked. But Benn couldn’t help it, here in a lively café just around the block from his work. It was hard to believe in ghosts when the sun was shining through the windows, almost blinding him.

“Are you my friend, or what?” Shanks pouted, lips pulled to a straight line, his eyes so bright and open. A part of Benn wanted to reach out, grip the edgy face in front of him with both hands and kiss the annoyingly adorable face. The saner part of his mind reminded him that friends didn’t kiss, because that’s what they were - friends.

“Of course, I’m your friend. Which is why I’m allowed to tease the shit out of you for talking about ghosts and poltergeists.”

“I never said anything about a poltergeist,” Shanks murmured, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. It suited him, Benn had to admit. “Just a haunted house.” His fingers fidgeted with the cup in front of him, filled with something called coffee, no matter it contained more sugar and milk than anything else. Shanks’ drinking habits were weird to say the least. “I swear my house is haunted.”

The last sentence had come out a little more determined, probably to hide the anxiety that Benn could see in Shanks’ eyes. Sometimes he was still the fifteen-year-old he had met, all those years ago.

“I can’t say I believe in ghosts, but if it makes you feel better I come to you after work. Meet your ghosts and ask them politely to leave,” Benn said and reached out for Shanks’ hand, stilling it and stopping him from spilling his drink. It was met with entangling their fingers.

The sigh Shanks released was almost not audible but still Benn caught it, knowing immediately to have made the right decision.

* * *

They had watched a movie, and mind you it had been a comedy, far from any ghosts or horror stories. To fuel Shanks’ superstition or scare him more was nothing Benn intended to do. The pizza Benn had picked up on the way was long gone and the whiskey Shanks had dug out from his cabinet was emptier than before. All in all, it had been a pleasant evening, without any spooky interruptions so far.

Benn went out of the bathroom, dressed in boxers only, a hand in his hair to loosen his ponytail. His eyes caught Shanks’ ass, which was presented to him as he smoothed down a blanket over the couch. For a moment Benn indulged into the sight, then he reprimanded himself, averting his eyes. He wasn’t a horny teenager anymore, to get lost in pretty faces and tight ass cheeks. Shanks was his friend!

“Thanks for preparing the bed,” Benn said and walked over, falling gracelessly into the sheets Shanks had just neatly tucked around the edges of the daybed. A lopsided grin flashed over to him, eyes raking up and down, then they settled on Benn’s face. There was warmth pooling in Benn’s belly.

“Thanks for staying over.” It was a casual reply, but Benn knew how much it meant to Shanks to have him here. It wasn’t the first time, but had become less and less over the years. In their early friendship Shanks had been tormented by nightmares and somehow his presence had always helped.

“I’ll probably sneak out in the morning, to get to the office, so don’t expect me to st-,” Benn started and stopped in the middle of his sentence when something squeaked loudly from down the hallway. Goosebumps appeared on his skin and he caught Shanks’ shocked face.

“What was that?” Benn asked incredulously.

“I told you it’s haunted,” Shanks whispered, leaning in closer to Benn, to allow him to still listen, despite his muted voice. Red strands fell into his face, his scent lingering in Benn’s nostrils. For a moment, it was hard to remember he had just been scared as hell. Then he resolutely pushed himself off the couch, dodging Shanks’ head that had come close enough to bump into and made his way to the hall.

There were no such things as haunted houses or ghosts. Not to mention Shanks lived in a flat, in the middle of a housing area in Brooklyn. This wasn’t the area for ghosts. This was the area for people in their early thirties with a good job and a boring life. Not that he wanted to indicate Shanks had a boring life. Or he himself had. But a little excitement would definitely speed things up.

When had the two of them become so … normal?

“Dear ghost, if you’re out there, I’d appreciate it to stop scaring my friend,” Benn huffed, arms crossed. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Shanks edging closer, the blanket around his shoulders like an armor.

“I’m not sure if he’s listening,” he murmured under his breath, which made Benn snort.

“Why’re you so certain it’s a male ghost? Could be a lady, as well.”

His eyes darted around, to make out something, anything strange, but everything seemed just fine. From the keys on the counter, Benn had tossed there earlier when he had entered (yes Benn had the spare keys, because Shanks was predestined to lose his) to the silly photo hanging on the wall, showing them with Yasopp and Roo happily laughing on a rock-festival, everything was just as it had been before.

“I’m very certain it’s a he, becau-,” Shanks said and then squeaked when the noise resounded. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed for his high-pitched cry. It made Benn chuckle, and his eyes darted up to where the sound had coming from. An eyebrow rose, when he saw the grid of a flue.

“Didn’t you say this woman moved in some days ago? The one with the pink hair? Gothic style? Pretty, but weird?” Benn asked, remembering the story from a few days back, when he had met with Shanks for lunch, as usual in their break. He turned to Shanks, who had moved closer, head ducked like he awaited an attack any moment. It softened when he heard the words, his posture giving in to the confusion.

“Yes, why?” Shanks asked, following Benn’s gaze to the flue.

“I’d say I was right with calling your ghost a lady,” Benn chuckled and the next time the sound filtered into the hallway, they both could make out the clearly human voice. Seems the woman was shouting something. Whoever was on the receiving line wasn’t to be envied.

“Yeah seems you’re right,” Shanks admitted quietly.

They listened for another while, but the sounds had died down and silence enveloped them. Just before it could become awkward, though, Shanks stepped closer and into Benn’s private space. His eyes looked up, exhausted, abashed, hopeful. “You’re not going home, aren’t you?”

The words, spoken softly, in a way Benn hadn’t heard Shanks for a long time, took him by surprise and automatically he wrapped his arms around Shanks’ waist. He pulled the smaller one close, embracing him with his body and settled his chin on the red hair.

“Of course not. It’s way too late for that anyway,” Benn mumbled into the hair and heard a relieved sigh.

“Good,” Shanks answered, burying his face into Benn’s chest. The man emitted a warmth that left Benn breathless, but made him also feel secure and at home. His scent, honey, whisky and something, like the ocean, burned into Benn’s mind like a mark. God, he loved it so much. Loved Shanks so much.

“Want me to sleep with you tonight?” It was an innocent question, but before Shanks could respond Benn realized he was still naked from the hip upwards, Shanks too close and wearing only sleepwear, too. At least he wore a shirt, still. It was the wrong time to be aware of the proximity, of the long time Benn had spent alone since his break-up with Bellemere, of his body aching for the man he had wrapped in a hug.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed,” Shanks said, stepping back but reaching for Benn’s hand, to drag him along. Instead of following though, Benn made himself loose. He was met with an irritated glance, a rawness in Shanks’ eyes he couldn’t place.

“I, ehm,” Benn stuttered, needing a moment to order his thoughts. Then he took a breath and continued. “I just get a shirt.”

“Don’t.”

The word was so silent, Benn wondered if he had misheard. But the gaze that met him told he hadn’t. Blood rushed into his cheeks, any reply stuck in his throat. The rawness he had witnessed in Shanks’ eyes had just intensified, and he knew something similar shimmered in his own ones. They danced around this for too long now. It needed to stop.

“Shanks,” Benn emitted in a breathless sigh, his hand raising slightly, just to drop back down. He didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to do something. “This is…” He stopped himself. To voice it was stupid, dangerous was useless. Not true even. So he changed his question to something more important. “You sure?”

“Yes!”

And that yes was enough for Benn to finally move, wrap his arms around Shanks again, and pull him close. This time though, he let his fingers slip under the hem of the other man’s shirt, touching the skin, drawing circles, while his lips finally came home.


	28. distraction (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerle asked for ShanksBenn and "kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing"

It was eleven pm, he had been on his feet for almost all day, and all Benn wanted was to enjoy his drink and book. Stretch his legs out on the couch, have his peace and quiet and relax. It was a good plan. A solid one, even, considering the stability of his plans.

Though, he should have known that the very person in his life responsible for the instability of his plans would leave this one in tatters as well.

When Shanks picked the book out of his hands and placed it on the nearby table, all Benn could do was groan. Before he could say something, though, he was silenced by a kiss. Not that he didn’t enjoy Shanks’ kisses, they were wonderful, but the moment they let go and Benn intended to speak, Shanks’ lips were on his again.

He mumbled against them but nothing coherent came out. Then, when Shanks pulled away, smirking, Benn needed the time to take a breath. So, again, he couldn’t say anything. Instead Shanks planted himself on his lap and kissed him fiercely. Something akin to arousal sparked up in Benn, but he was too exhausted for anything close to sex.

“Shanks,” he managed to say, tried to explain, but was interrupted again, with another kiss. They were heady but not demanding. Something teasing rather, deliberately drawn out and intending to make him stop speaking. As if he had a chance.

“Relax,” Shanks murmured, smiled, and kissed him again. His hands slipped into Benn’s hair and Benn let him. Settled back into the couch and enjoyed. Let their lips act on their own, a known play, a reassuring gesture.

They let go and Benn sighed, his hands had found a spot at Shanks’ hips, were they could just rest. His body started to melt into the cushions, his thoughts becoming silent. The next kiss was welcome, awaited even. As was the next and the next.

How long they sat there, on the couch, just kissing was beyond Benn, but the clock ticked the seconds away steadily. Sometime later, was it a minute or an hour wasn’t relevant, they stopped and Shanks stood, taking Benn’s hand and led him to their bedroom. Before they went to bed, Shanks pressed another peck onto his lips, and then whispered in his ear, “You never truly relax when you read. You keep thinking and you deserved not to, for a while.”

Benn had to admit Shanks was right. He also had to admit it had worked.


	29. on top of the world (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things you said when we were on top of the world, requested by viv :)

The world seemed small from above, and what wasn’t sparkling in a different shade of blue was made of fluffy white cloud. They’d made it far, the Redhair Pirates. All those years back, when Benn had met a crying redheaded boy who’d rescued him from a bunch of marines and then dragged him onto a boat, he’d never believed to make it this far. Actually, Benn hadn’t even believed to make it to the next island. But here they were, on top of the world. Literally.

It wasn’t Skypia, which had been Shanks’ original plan. The cloud overhead had been a different one, yet as beautiful and disturbingly solid as Benn had imagined it. Walking on a cloud, what a strange concept.

His eyes roamed the view, as his legs dangled from the edge of the cloud. If he fell, he’d fall deep. Not something his humanly body would survive. Benn was aware, but he knew what dangers he could face and which not.

The sea below was blue, and islands seemed like tiny dots in the distant. The Redline shimmered in the far-off distance, an impressive mountain still visible from such a height. Red and thin, yet visible. Behind him was open land, a country made of cloud. Houses, fields, streets and water. A dream world. Nothing he would want to stay in, with his senses tested beyond logic matter. Nothing of it should be real, should be feasible. The Grandline, though, had thought him for the impossibility to be a ghost. Like sand running through his fingers, the faster the more he held. Few things remained solid with the life he led.

Like his wandering thoughts had conjured him out of his mind, a presence approached from behind, soft steps walking straight towards him. When knees pressed against his back, he leaned back, closed his eyes and simply felt. In a moment of reprieve Shanks slid down and his legs slipped on both sides of Benn’s body. His strong arm slung around his waist and held him, Shanks’ chin on his shoulder and his hot breath at his ear.

“The crew misses you,” Shanks whispered and it made Benn smile. What Shanks said and what he meant were different things, and the way he nuzzled against Benn’s neck revealed it.

“I needed a break.”

Another way to not tell what was actually meant. Shanks chuckled.

“Hopefully not from me,” he mused and it made Benn turn, to look at the startling brown eyes he adored so much. The edges of his mouth quirked upwards.

“Who knows,” he replied mischievously but was aware of his fond smile betraying him. If anything came close to peace it was this .

“I do.”

Shanks did. He always did and it was no surprise for either as their mouth slotted together, kissing in a way that only time and trust allowed. Languid, slow, gentle. Their kiss was all their life wasn’t.

“Is this what you meant, when you promised me the sky?” Benn asked with a chuckle and Shanks smirked, his eyes dancing with laughter. His shoulders pressed into Benn’s back and he followed the lead of his captain. Turning back to look at the beauty before him, the life that was his, he trusted Shanks to hold him. Hot breath tickled him and tousled his thin, graying hair. One day he would have to cut it, but surely not today.

“I can’t recall I ever promised you the sky,” Shanks mused and Benn fought the urge to turn again, regard Shanks, and remind him. Something in his tone told there was more to come. “But if, there would be more I’d give you.”

A shudder rushed through Benn’s body when Shanks’ finger traced the scar on his temple. Barely healed, the skin was still sensitive. Shanks was a Yonko now, but it was not what he remembered. It would never be what he remembered or what the world tried to make out of him. Shanks had never wanted to be a Yonko. It was a responsibility he’d rather not carry. Yet, the world had decided for him.

It didn’t help that Benn had nearly died in the fight.

Before Shanks could draw his hand away, Benn laced his fingers with his. They felt warm and calloused. Years of sword’s training had made them so. Shanks’ callouses brushed against his own. Different, yet still the same.

“There is nothing you could give me, I don’t already have,” Benn murmured against the palm pressed at his cheek, before turning his head to kiss it. He had found a family who loved him, a home that carried him across the sea and his partner in body and soul. He was as content with his life as a wanted pirate could be. Yet, Shanks tensed slightly and Benn felt it.

“Shanks,” he said, louder this time and pushed himself back from the edge, forcing his captain with him. When he had enough space, he turned to face Shanks head-on. It was written on his every line, his face speaking volumes. Benn understood. It was a tale so old, yet so important.

“As long as…,” Shanks started but stopped and his eyes closed, revealing his scars; the three parallel lines on his eyelid. “I’m afraid.”

Admitting to his fear and vulnerability was hard for Shanks, Benn knew. Life hadn’t been kind to his captain and his anxiety for loss was a constant reminder. Gently tracing the scars, Benn wondered what he could say that wasn’t a lie.

“I know,” he breathed and leaned in, closer and closer, until he was able to kiss Shanks’ eyelids. Another time Benn had nearly died. Nearly, but he was still alive. “I know. But as long as we can breathe, we can fight. As long as there is hope, there is reason to fight, and as long as we’re together, I’ll fight by your side.” He paused, took a small breath and the kissed Shanks on the lips. A quick peck, but enough to convey he believed in what he was saying. “There is nothing you could give me, I don’t already have, as long as you are here. With me.”

“On top of the world,” Shanks finished, quietly and Benn smiled as he looked back out towards the sea.

“On top of the world,” he agreed.


	30. pants (Shanks/Benn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about pants and no pants and pent up arousal and stress ... and Shanks and Benn just being Shanks and Benn
> 
> Aerle wished for "I just ironed these pants."

His black hair hung damp around his face and clung to his neck and shoulders. With swift movements he rubbed it between the white towel in his hands. The fabric was soft under his hands. Cold air stroke his naked chest when he opened the bathroom door to his quarters. Goosebumps appeared, covered him from head to toe and he sighed. He hated Winter Islands.

Throwing the towel on the large bed, Benn strode to his wardrobe. The thing was old, crafted from dark mahogany and decorated with intricate pattern. His hand caressed the fine carvings before he opened the doors. Two stacks of neat clothing greeted him, all in dark color and sturdy fabric. His clothes. Next to it was a pile of messy shirts, mostly white, and heaps over heaps of trousers with incredulous designs. Shanks style was outlandish. Not that Benn was surprised anymore.

He didn’t give much thought into his choice of clothes but took the first pair of trousers and the first shirt he could grab. They landed on the bed next to the used towel, before he fished for some actual underwear. The towel around his torso slipped as he bent down.

A click announced the opening of the door and without looking, Benn stated solemnly, “No we don’t have time for a quicke.”

A drawl was his answer and he felt the presence come closer, until it was right behind him. He straightened, boxers in hand, but didn’t turn because he felt a warm hand stroke over his side. The touch made him shudder, the warmth such a contrast to the cold air.

“But Benny.” The voice was a purr in his ear. A zing of arousal rushed through his body at the deep, rich voice. “Why not?”

“Because we have a meeting in ten minutes and I’m not dressed, yet.” His answer sounded weak even to his own ears. There was clear want in his voice, a deep need that could be picked out of his tone like plum, ripe peaches. But they didn’t have time. It made him angry.

“You’re no fun,” was drawled, again directly into his ear. The hand at his side snuck around his body and left a trail of fire in its wake. Without a sound the towel fell to the ground, left him stark naked. Clever fingers brushed the inside of his tights, teased.

A single word left his throat, voiced like a broken prayer.

“Shanks!”

As quietly as the presence had appeared behind him, it went, and Benn suppressed the curse that bubbled in his stomach. The loss felt aggravating. Only after he heard the mattress squeak he turned.

Shanks laid sprawled out on their bed, feet still on the floor, legs slightly spread and his arm only propping him up ever so slightly. The urge to cover him, from head to toe overtook Benn like a raging storm. Shanks knew, because he looked smug with his sly grin and his red hair falling into his hazelnut eyes. It didn’t help that his shirt wasn’t buttoned and revealed too much of his tantalizing skin, all bronze in the light. Benn forcefully willed his oncoming erection down.

“Do you like what you see? Because I certainly do,” he mused and only then Benn captured himself staring. With two steps he crossed the distance to the bed, and leaned down, one hand next to his captain’s shoulder. His brow was wrinkled, and he wore a scowl.

“Fuck you,” he spit and snatched the trousers out from under Shanks’ body. “I just ironed these pants.”

A huff reached his ears, but Benn ignored it. Instead he turned back to the wardrobe and started to dress himself. He was angry, but mostly at himself for snapping at Shanks. He was angry at the circumstances, and it made him angry that he was angry.

It was neither Shanks’ nor his fault that they hadn’t managed to steal time for themselves. Weeks had been busy since Shanks had been announced a Yonko, and Benn didn’t want to fuck things up. Didn’t dare to fuck things up. The lives of his captain and crew depended on it. Even though it meant countless hours behind a desk doing paperwork, endless meetings with allies and befriended crews, nights given to research, and neglect of his own personal needs. It was worth it. _It was worth it!_

He stepped into his boxers and pants automatically, pulled his shirt over his head without thinking of his movements. He acted without his own consciousness, only dragged forward because he had to, while his body screamed for something different. A need he had been given a taste and was now deprived from. Where was his sash? He looked around, eyes narrowing. Where was his fucking sash?

An arm slung around him, from behind and Benn stiffed. Protest rose in him but before he could voice it his head was softly turned, fingers at his jaw and Shanks kissed him. Kissed him slow and languidly, with passion and understanding. Kissed him and kissed him, and Benn was starving for the touch. The hand slipped under his shirt and traced circles into his skin. Shanks’ body was warm, his hand callused and familiar, and his lips like a shrine. When he released him from the kiss, Benn sighed.

“You’re tearing yourself apart, Benn. Stop trying to carry all the changes alone.”

Every whispered word broke another brick out of Benn’s wall of stoicism until it fell completely. He sacked a little in Shanks’ embrace, his body giving in. Only when Shanks made soothing noises to calm him, he realized he was shivering.

“I’m afraid,” he admitted after a moment, and Shanks leaned his forehead against his shoulder. It felt safe.

“I know,” reached his ear, muffled through his own skin. A kiss was placed at the spot where Shanks’ face rested against Benn’s skin, just atop the collar of his shirt. “I know so well.”

Still shivering, Benn placed his own hands around Shanks’ broad frame, enveloped the man he knew so well and loved with all his heart. Their hearts beat in union, connected them. The contact calmed him down. How long they staid like this, Benn couldn’t tell.

When they parted his shivering had stopped, and despite the lack of contact it didn’t feel like a loss anymore. Their gazes connected until Shanks swiped a loose strand out of Benn’s face. His serious expression had made way for a smirk. “You didn’t iron those pants. Look at all those wrinkles.”

Benn laughed. Of course Benn laughed. It felt liberating to laugh and he shook his head in amusement. “No. No, I didn’t.”

Shanks’ eyes gleamed in the light of the room, so beautiful with their golden specks around the pupil. Benn watched him stride to the bed and fish something from under the blanket. It was his yellow sash. He wondered how he had not seen it earlier. Instead of giving it to him, though, Shanks slung it around his waist, sloppy due to only having one arm. But it served its purpose, because when Shanks tugged Benn followed the lead. Going on his tip-toes to reach his ear, Shanks whispered “Good. Because I will rip them off you later, and then they definitely will have wrinkles.”

When Shanks even bit into his earlobe, Benn couldn’t suppress the moan bubbling to the surface. A smile tugged on the edges of his mouth. He couldn’t wait for this damned meeting to be over.


End file.
